Coral Meeting Place

Chapter 3

The Meeting

The meeting was called for sunset, one week before the great spawning
of the reef. Messengers were sent to the dwellings of all the
cephalapods belonging to this area of the reef. Both the octopi and the
cuttlefishes were requested to attend, and let me add that no 'tentacle
twisting' was required to beef up the attendance. Though by nature not
particularly gregarious, these are very curious, inquisitive creatures
who like to be kept in the picture. Rumors of the horrible visions that
assailed the dreams of Nemro, an octopus elder renowned for his
knowledge of the cephalopodan lore, had filtered down through the
community, from the top of the food chain to the bottom. These visions
were not restricted to Nemro, but similar visions disturbed the sleep
of several other members of the reef community and so served to give
weight to what it was that Nemro was about to divulge.

The venue for the meeting was located in the middle of the reef flat on
a large section of patch reef. A natural bowl or amphitheater had been
formed in the coral. At the lowest tide, there was still a metre of
water coverage at its highest point. The sides, riddled by depressions,
nodes, nooks and crannies rose gradually out and upwards from the
centre. The marine creatures that sat around the sides of the bowl were
able to look down upon a large stone that stood alone in the centre,
looking very much like a church pulpit. The reef here was covered by
pink and blue algae's and clumps of dead hard -corals, running outwards
and up to the lip of the coral. The cuttlefish hovered in small groups
or individually and the octopi sat on sections of hard-coral or peered
out from comfortable crevices that would not hinder their view of the
goings on. The atmosphere was electric, and flashes of colour were
going off right around the bowl, chromatophores changing by the
millions like stage lighting at an outdoor concert, the cephalopods
communicated amongst themselves. The warm waters gently circulated
amongst the gathering, lightly caressing skin and fin. Any moment you
might expect to hear the cry 'ice-cream, cold drinks, beer, get em
here' just like a football match. But there were not going to be any
games played here this evening. The agenda was dark indeed.

Although of the same phylum, and in a class of their own, along with
squid and nautilus, octopus and cuttlefish rarely mixed. They were
little more than civil to one another but they were bound by a common
sense of history stretching back literally millions of years to when
the coral reefs were the predominant ecosystem on this planet. They had
similar beginnings within the arms of Mother Reef and Father Sea and
saw each others' life cycles as independent yet ultimately entwined.
Theirs was a strange relationship. It was as if in each others
strengths there own weaknesses were highlighted. And lets face it, who
does like to be reminded of their weaknesses? They co-existed, they
just ignored each other whenever possible. But something had arisen
that made it impossible for the two to continue in this way. Now they
would truly need one another.

As the shimmering molten red disk of the sun dipped below the horizon a
reddish brown shadow shot out from the center near the base of the
ampitheatre, hurtling upwards it stopped abruptly and hovered above the
large centre rock, a focal point for the eager gathering. The shape
flared, and opening like an umbrella revealed itself to be a large
white striped octopus. Its colours changed to vermillion red and the
white spots that edged along its sucker margins shone with an eery
luminescence. Slowly this majestic creature settled upon the reef rock
and adjusted his tentacles about him like a skirt. The crowd , hushed
to a cephalopod, waited for it to address the gathering.

'I call down upon all of those gathered here today the blessings of our
ancestors, the Moyang'. May they grant me the words for persuasion and
may they open up your minds to the words I must speak. I wish that the
business of this summons was not so heavy. I have battled with the
visions for too long now. I have grown weak with their burden. But I
must speak. The Moyang have seen fit to reveal the future to us. They
have given me the responsibility of ensuring that these visions are not
wasted, that they will guide us to a new life, a new home. I know that
I am not the only Cephalopod within our community to be visited by
these horrible visions. There are those among you who have spoken to me
about the horrible sights and sounds that assault them in their sleep.
And I tell you, as I have told them, something horrible is drifting our
way. The course left to us is difficult and fraught with danger. Many
will join the Moyang before their time, but many will endure. We must
leave our home and move north. To where, I do not know exactly. But I
do trust the Moyang and so must you'.

A shiver emanated from the members of the gathering and they leaned in
closer to follow what Nemro had to say.

'Dreadful is the dream. A thunderous noise splits the reef, louder than
the pounding of a storm swell hurled against the outer reef wall, but
somehow different, more piercing, strident, as though the reef itself
(mother herself) is in pain. It is a sound that I cannot rid from my
mind. The sound is swiftly followed by darkness. Darker than the
deepest waters under a stormy night sky. Inpenetrable blackness.

Nemros' tone became more grave, less confident as he spoke of the
blackness. He appeared to age before their very eyes.

'The darkness moves with the current, choking and stifling. Like a
cloud of ink jettisoned by our giant cousins but thicker, blacker, a
thing of destruction not protection. Cries and moans can be heard
struggling out from within this black void. Their source I can only
guess at, but I assure you we must never find out! Just as we cannot
live within a cloud of our own ink, so too we must distance ourselves
from this discharge'.

The gathering seemed to shrivel in fear at the images spoken of by
Nemro. Cephalopod ink is toxic to cephalopods if they are forced to
ejaculate in enclosed quarters with no circulation. A murmur of
chromatophoric communication went up amongst the octopi and cuttlefish.
Although this gathering was organised by cephalapods, all tenants of
the reef would be affected by Nemros' dreams. Many other creatures were
in attendance at this meeting. The cephalopods did not feel responsible
for the safety of the vertebrates in the community, but they are a fair
and reasonable class and they knew it to be only fair and just that
they at least give the others a chance to organize their own survival.
No exception was taken to any reef creature that arrived to hear the
words of Nemro. Fishes, crabs, eels and worms, all had converged on the
coral ampitheatre to hear what the wise old octopus had to say. An
unsung code applied at congregations on the reef like this one.
Predator and prey could sit side by side with no thought given to their
natural relationship. But you can bet your last dollar that some of
those present briefly entertained hungry thoughts about a juicy
neighbour sitting within easy striking distance of them. However, good
order prevails and all dietary requirements were forgone for the
duration of the meeting and for a short period following to allow the
congregation to return safely to their own homes and back into their
natural routines. Once that was done, they were once again fair
game.

'An exodus must take place enmasse. Danger will surround us and safety
can only be found in numbers. Predators will take advantage of our
situation. Together we are strong, our chances of survival much
greater. I know that this is sudden and difficult to fathom, but it is
the Moyang that require it of us. The Moyang sustain and guide us, we
cannot disobey. The Moyang revealed to me our new home, they place it 8
sunsets to the north from here. Our future is in their tentacles. The
seriousness of these visions has necessitated co-operation like never
before between octopus and cuttlefish and has prompted me to confer
with the noble Jabhai. Jabhai, please come forward and tell us all of
the steps you have taken to find our new reef.

Jabhai was a club cuttlefish. A magnificent specimen. His position held
amongst the cuttlefish was similar to that held by Nemro amongst the
octopus. He was thought to have mystical powers, but more likely his
depth of life experience gave him a broader knowledge base that at
times mystified others of his kind and set tongues to wagging as to his
alleged super-cephalopodic abilities. Indeed, Jabhai was a very smart
creature and his reputation was that of a dependable, solid statesman.
Not given to the usual vagaries of his kind.

Jabhai swam solemnly forward from his position hovering above a bright
red nudibranch at the base of the ampitheatre. All eyes and sensory
organs were fixed upon him. Slowly Jabhai revolved on the spot, his
fins waving up and down, his tentacles held out in front of him. His
large dark eyes scanned the ampitheatre. Cuttlefish are far more
effective travelers than octopus'. They have been know to travel great
distances and their physiology better designed for constant jetting. It
was only commonsense that they should be chosen to form a
reconnoitering team

'Already, a team of our strongest cuttlefish have been deployed to
search out our new home. Three sunsets ago they set out to the north'.
The gathering emitted noises of surprise at this unexpected news.
Cuttlefish are far more effective travelers than octopus'. They have
been know to travel great distances and their physiology was better
designed for constant jetting. ' They will attempt to confirm the
location of a reef situated 8 sunsets distant. The Moyang have revealed
this much to us. As Nemro says,' in the Moyang we must trust'. What
other option have we left? To sit and wait in ignorant bliss is not in
our plan. We are creatures of action and we will not accept a fate that
is within our tentacles to change. We wish our team speed and safety
and expect their return with good news within a dozen sunsets.
Organisation of the movement pattern for all cephalopods will be
co-ordinated by a team of octopus and cuttlefish who will be informed
of who they are and what are their duties at the completion of this
meeting. I tell you now, we do not know when this darkness will be
visited upon us. If we need to, we will move before the return of our
team. I ask you all to prepare yourselves. I realize we have amongst us
mothers with egg clutches&;#8230;I am sorry&;#8230;.You must
leave them behind. Our new home will afford us with many opportunities
to bring more children of the Moyang into the reef world.'

At this last bit of news, a female octopus known as Leelo rose out of
her crevice where she had sat observing the goings on. Her skin shone
deathly pale, her body was puffed up as if under threat of
attack.

"Never Jabhai, never! A wise cuttlefish like yourself should know the
bond our females have with their clutches. They are our life, our
purpose for being. To leave them behind would be akin to ripping our
still pumping hearts out through our mouths and impaling them on a lion
fishes spine. We cannot accept this'. Cries of support and flashes of
anger broke from the gathering. Other mothers swam to embrace Leelo.
They became a sobbing mass of entwined tentacles and pressed mantels.
The obvious grief was too readily transmitted to those watching and a
communal flash of dull blue shone from the skins of the gathered
cephalopods.

'WE understand Leelo, but the well being of our community lies in the
safety of those cephalopods of reproductive age.