The Oinker

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 2nd October 2025

Characters: Kemmin, Jast, Seegin
Description: Kemmin faces some hazing at his new job at the Barrier Lake dockyards.
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr
Date: month 8, day 24 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Ketlyn

"Faaarrrrm boy!" Jast screwed up his face and oinked as Kemmin walked up the gangplank to the deck of the Firkin and immediately dissolved into laughter at his own joke. A couple of the other lads still on the dock joined in.

Kemmin managed a smile and a mocking bow, but three days of taunts was getting old. The first day he'd been tripped going up a wobbly gangplank -- Jast had claimed it was to see if he could swim -- which he could, but the water was so cold it had left him breathless and blue. The second day he'd been left to unload the tithe on a fat-bellied boat (a schooner, he'd learned) by himself. It had been packed to the rafters with hay.

Today was shaping up to be exactly the same. "Is this going to be like yesterday? Do you need a big strong man to unload this boat for you too?" Kemmin called.

Jast laughed again. "Your mama's a boat! This here's a _ship_, Oinker!"

"Say that again." The challenge was out before Kemmin thought it through. Jast was already puffing up and stepping too close, his beady eyes fixed on Kemmin's. He had a mean smile on his face.

"What are you gonna do about it, Oinker?" Jast asked. "Run home, farm boy."

Jast was smaller than he was, but corded and strong. Kemmin hadn't actually fought someone before, only wrestled with his brothers in the meadows behind the house. Today was apparently going to be the day. A fire kindled in his chest and suddenly the only thing he could think about was smashing his fist into Jast's face until he couldn't smile anymore. Nobody got to talk about his mother like that.

Then another young man stepped between them, his hand on Jast's chest as he pushed him back. "Faranth's sake, Jast. It's barely past dawn and its raining. Simmer down."

Jast grinned and revealed a missing front tooth. "It's your lucky day, Oinker."

"Any time," Kemmin opened his arms wide and stepped forward, crowding the other two toward the rail. "Let's go."

Jast made to go at him again but the other young man, Seegis, pushed him back again. "Leave him alone, Jast."

"Farm kids don't belong on the lake," Jast said. "He doesn't even know what a ship is and he can barely swim."

"It's not like any of us are sailing," Seegis said bitterly. "We carry heavy things and that's it."

"I can too swim," Kemmin spat.

Jast's grin grew wider. "Prove it."

"Oh for..." Seegis rubbed his forehead. "You saw him swim just two days ago. Dockmaster says we unload the Firkin, so we unload the Firkin. Got it?"

But Kemmin wasn't listening. All he could see was the beady glint in Jast's dark eyes and all he could feel was the fire in his chest that demanded that he _show_them_. So what if he was from a farming cothold. He was as strong as any of them, as good as any of them!

"Climb up there and dive off," Jast said, nodding at the main mast. "Oinker. Oinker! Oink oink!"

"Don't even think about it, Kemmin." Seegis turned and glared at Kemmin.

Kemmin was already thinking about it. He'd never climbed a mast before, but it couldn't be that bad. He kicked off one of his boots.

"It's freezing out you dimglow!" Seegis tried to get in Kemmin's way as Kemmin pulled off his other boot. "You're going to get frostbite and the Dockmaster'll fire you."

He didn't want to get fired, but there was no way he was going to let Jast disrespect him like that. The dockyard was the first step in Kemmin's plan to learn to sail and explore all of Pern. No toothless runt was going to chase him off-- or beat him up in a fight. Swimming he had a chance of surviving, even when it was nearly cold enough to snow.

Kemmin stepped around Seegis and started climbing as Jast's porcine squeals chased him up the rigging. It _was_ freezing. His toes immediately went numb and his fingers went next, but the fire in his belly to prove himself was stronger. The rigging swayed with each step he took, with each breath of icy wind and bob of the lake.

"Kemmin! Faranth-- you dimglow!" Seegis swore beneath him. "At least jump to the starboard side where the water's deeper."

Starboard -- that was the right side of the boat. Ship. Kemmin swallowed as he looked down to where Jast and Seegis stood on the deck, squinting up at him. Seegis looked worried. Several of the other dockyard workers had gathered along the Firkin's railing to watch. It was awfully far down and he was only halfways up. Rain was misting down and starting to bead into little water droplets in his hair, a harbinger of what was to come.

His fingers burned with cold. His feet were cramping. Kemmin started climbing again as the ship lurched sickeningly below him. **This is such a bad idea,** he thought.

The last horizontal pole of the mast was coming up. **Yard,** Kemmin thought, but wasn't sure that 'yard' was the right word. He wasn't going to ask now.

The wood was slick with moisture and tar. He clambered onto it, the ship lolling beneath him and trying to buck him off. The horizon dipped and swayed like a dancer's skirt. Far below he could hear the other dockyard workers hooting and hollering, maybe egging him on or begging him to come down. All he could think about was not falling and splattering his brains out on the deck. Ketlyn would kill him if he died.

The yard was so narrow, but he'd seen other men race up and down it like it was nothing. He slowly stood, his knees bent, and took a careful step forward. The ship lurched and he fell to his knees with his arms around the mast. **Keep going.**

He forced himself to stand. Then put one frozen foot in front of the other. Starboard was right. The deck was below. Another step. Then another, and a third. The ship continued to sway and the icy wind clawed at his face. Then the ocean was beneath him.

Kemmin spread his arms and jumped.

Airborne, suspended between sea and sky. He could hear avians calling, see the sparkle of morning light on the waves like the facets of a dragon's eye. The fat bellied clouds seemed close enough to touch and the dragons wheeling overhead looked as small as flits.

Then he was falling. Too fast-- the grey water hit him like an anvil. Cold sucked the breath from his lungs and rewarded him with a mouthful of lake water. He was going to drown. His clothing billowed around him in the water and he couldn't tell which way was up.

Then his head broke the surface and he heard cheering. Kemmin grinned and waved, teeth chattering and unable to breathe from the cold. Jast glared at him from the railing of the Firkin so he made a rude gesture before starting the impossibly frigid swim around the side of the ship and back to shore.

He'd flown, he'd fallen, he thought his gonads had crawled into his body it was so cold. He was sick and dizzy and euphoric and he'd still have to work a shift on the dockyards unloading the Firkin with fingers so frozen he couldn't curl them. Was this what hypothermia felt like?

This was the best day yet.

Last updated on the October 3rd 2025

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The Oinker