Soil Parent is excited as I slide into the water this Set. She has got something to show me. She is carrying some kind of small device, like a perfectly round sea-stone, flashing in the Sun-pup light from the holes in the top of the main cavern. She lets it float between us. It seems to be alive, but it smells of nothing. Nothing alive has no scent. The most scent-masked dog does not smell so vacant. I scent curiosity. She does not have mouth-tails near enough to me to be able to communicate clearly through our strange pack-bond so the blunt tool of hormonal communication will do. She scents patience back. I wait. Then, clear as the snap of a twig in a quiet forest.

« Is it working? Can you feel me? » I startle and drift back. « You can? » She and Pack Guider^ share a look. Pack Guider scents a waft of acquiescence.

« Yes, I can. What is happening? » I just think the words and she shows understanding. After over a season of not having any individual with whom I could have this kind of effortless communication the sense of Pack is overwhelming.

« The Overseers have given these to us because barriers with the bees have been lowered. » Again, she and Pack Guider share a look. There is a story here for another time. « We are now able to communicate. Apparently bees are working on making easily-carried ones for every individual but for now, I got the first one in all of Cove and I knew I had the perfect test for it. »

« What’s Cove? »

« Here. But also me and “Mother”. » This word does not enter my mind, as the others do, in perfectly understandable feeling of words I could speak to another dog. It comes as a sense of different concepts at once, Pack Guider, Soil parent, quarter-dog^, fabricator, den parent. « How do I explain? There are 8 Packs in our culture. Our legends tell us that the Great Mother had 8 daughters who went on to be the Mothers of each of the Packs. They travelled and specialised. That is why a Cove is brooded different to a Chasm is brooded different to an Open. »

« Dogs have Pack. There used to be two Packs but now there is only one. I don’t really understand, they didn’t teach us about it in creche. » We three lapse into communication silence. They obviously understand Set and Rise as little as I understand Cove. « Soil Parent? »

« Is that my name to you? »

« Yes. What is your name to your Pack? » I don’t know how, but I feel like the two of them chuck together. They are both rocking their tails back and forth. She then stops that and moves in a complex way. She smells my confusion. Again, a definite feeling of them chucking and the water jiggling as they swish about.

« I know that your species use fixed names so it might be confusing. Soil Parent is what you call me, so that is who I am to you. I call you. » She coalesces with two of her mouth-tails looking like dog ears and her skin shifts to be obviously spotted. I feel a further rush of Pack. I feel Pack Guider watching me. Living in this way with these creatures, I have become accustomed to the way they understand their lives through their eyes rather than nose. From the memories I have shared with Soil Parent, I know octopus see far better than dogs and those are the details they most remember. I know how significant it is to be the focus of a barred eye.

« To Pack I am Curious Runt^ Set. That means that when I was first whelped, I was curious, I was whelped different and I am from the part of Pack that was Set. »

« It suits you. »

« It describes me in my first degrees^. I do not know if it suits me now. ) My mind is a whirl of thoughts. ( Sorry, I wanted to ask a question. »

« Oh sure, I did not mean to interrupt you with thoughts of names. »

« Is “Mother” your word for Pack Guider? »

« I suppose so. Each Pack has a Mother. My Mother, » she indicates Pack Guider who is settling herself by the warm column, her skin beginning to go the mottled of a tail-beast with nothing to concern them right now, « is Cove Mother. She is the Mother of all of those born in Cove. I am her Heir. When she dies, I will become Cove Mother. »

« How do you know? »

« Because Heirs become Mothers. When time comes, I will waft eggs. They will be the next generation of Cove. My Mother’s Mother was Cove Mother and her Mother’s Mother. Are dogs not guided by their Mothers? »

« I don’t think we have Mothers. » They both shoot white all over their bodies. « What is a Mother? » Soil Parent squirts herself back. Pack Guider recovers more quickly and only pauses for a moment in her fishing from the column and ferrying morsels underneath herself.

« A Mother is the one who makes you from her body. »

« Like a whelper? »

« Yes, I thought your species had male and female whelpers? »

« Yes, of course, even I know that pups are made with a male and a female when they take the Heat-dose. »

« Then the female whelper is a Mother. She protects you and she loves you and, eventually she dies for you. » I smell the sense of love and Pack the two share. No dog feels this for their whelper.

« That is not what any whelpers are like on World. It is more like Soil parents. They look after you in creche and regurgitate for you and teach you about Soil and World and Pack. »

« And you call me Soil Parent? » I realise how foolish my thoughts that this creature, who doesn’t know about Pack and lives in this alien world, could be a Soil parent to me.

« Yes. » The water fills with delight. I draw it over my nose and cherish how safe it makes me feel.

« That is beautiful. Thank you. I feel honoured. »

« And I am Soil parent to the water-spider you gave me. » More delight, she is giddy and clenches her mouth-tails as she rocks back and forth and ripples patterns. Pack Guider mottles and swishes her mouth-tails gently in her nook and watches, adding her own delight into the melee.

« That is a “hermit crab”^. » Soil Parent flashes insecurity for a heartbeat but it is immediately masked by excitement. « They are given to Heirs to train them to care for their young when they become Mothers. I sent you the images of my hermit crab. He was my Mother’s Mother’s and when I got him, he was already 25 cycles. » Do tail-beasts use cycles too or is that the device? « So, he was old, but I loved him like my brood. » She smells incredibly sad but then flashes white. Communication ceases. Pack Guider is looking at Soil Parent. They reach mouth-tails to one another. They establish contact and I know they are communicating. They both gently undulate over each other’s mouth-tails. In my head, the thought forms, « Can I show you something? We will bring the device. I would like to show you part of my culture. Then later can you show me your culture? I would like to know what it is to be a dog and also how you got here! Dogs in “The Tangle” have not lowered their barriers. The bees were first. I think the humans and tortoises will be dropping their barriers too soon. As soon as the new Chasm Mother agrees. »

« I have already agreed. » The first time I feel Pack Guider in my head, I realise she is tired and in pain. She has a well of apathy that she struggles to overcome. All the times she has been impatient with my slow swimming seem different now. Now she has a character of her own. My mind is so full of thoughts and I don’t even understand most of what they think to me. I am excited to smell some of their culture with some creature to explain it. I want to know how right my conclusions have been. Not many scientists get to literally ask their subjects whether their observations are correct.

« I would love to learn some of your culture. And I will happily tell you about Pack. I also have other questions, but they can wait until you have shown me this thing first. » Both of them are heading towards the cave mouth. « Where are we going? »

« To the “Gardens”, » Soil Parent thinks as she leads me out of the cave mouth, following Pack Guider. The alien word again appears in my mind without meaning. When we are in the sea-forest, there is a pause as they float. Pack Guider eventually thinks to Soil Parent (where I can feel it)

« You be Mother. I will be Heir. » Soil Parent heads to the surface to let me breathe. I am able to thank her with a thought. Soil Parent explains what we will be visiting.

« It is an earthy^ place. All the Mothers from Cove are there. For the last 12 Mothers, Mothers for Open are also planted here, we also have some early Lake and River Mothers from before they established their own gardens. That is why Cove are still in The Tangle. »

« Sorry to interrupt, what is The Tangle? »

« This planet. You called your planet “World” earlier. We think of the Great Sisters forming a tangle that is all the oceans and waterways of the planet. We now know that the planet is made up of water with beaks of Peak^ but in the times of the Great Mother, “octopus” did not know there was anything outside of the ocean. »

« What is the ocean? »

« This. The water in which we live. » I realise she could be including me in that we. I am in-pack with this strange “octopus”

« Are you an octopus?

« Yes. Do you not have octopus on your “World”? » They both are sending interest and attentiveness into the water around us.

« We might do. Dogs don’t swim. Soil left Sentinels^ to warn us. Since coming here I have learnt about many different things that Pack does not know about. »

« Do you call yourself a dog? »

« Yes. »

« Then I will call you a dog, we thought of you as a “canine” before. What did you think we were? »

« I called you tail-creatures. Because you have so many tails. » A chuck appears in my head, she ripples and swishes her tails and looks at them. There is a second, hearty rich chuck that makes Soil Parent sound like a tinkle. Pack Guider is swirling her tails and chucking like I would not have imagined the tired creature I met being capable of. Once I have breathed, we dive down. I have problems sinking so Soil Parent holds my leg in one mouth-tail and the device in another. We then travel to the far Set end of the sheltered water. Pack Guider trailing behind us, allowing us a chance to be together. Soil Parent continues to explain the Gardens.

« It is where we go to honour our “Walked” Mothers. » Now I know that’s the translation, they don’t walk.

« Why? »

« What do you mean? »

« Why do you need to honour those who have Walked? »

« Do dogs not honour them? »

« No. Walking into the Wilderness is a very private experience. »

« I am sure you are not using the same word as we use – our concept of death is related to dissolving and I am sure yours is not. »

« I was thinking the same, our words for death are related to walking which I have never seen ye do. »

« Well dissolving » how does it know I know now? « isn’t private for octopus. When a Mother dies, her Heir and her body go into a sealed cave. Over time The Tangle reclaims her body and her beak is left »

« You have a beak?! »

« Yes, how would we eat otherwise? »

« I don’t know, you seem to push provision directly into yourself, why would you need a beak? »

Although she is lagging behind, Pack Guider scents mirth and is just about swishing. Soil Parent gathers herself,

« It is the only part of an octopus that remains. It is the only hard bit of us. Your beak is your only limit sometimes. I can fit through any gap my beak will. » That supports what I have observed. I am more surprised that there is any hard part of them at all. « When Mothers dissolve, their beaks are taken to the Garden and planted. The Mother will spend her life, preparing her Garden for her beak to be added and then the Lorekeeper and gardeners complete it with her beak when she dissolves. »

I can’t see anything now, but the different scents are becoming rich and full of nuance. The pressure on my body is higher than I have felt. Maybe I will remind her that quite a lot of me is hard and getting squished. Then I smell, from out of the gloom that there is cultivated plant life here. « This is the beak of the first known Cove Mother. As you can see, it is very plain. It was a long time ago and they did not have our modern methods of cultivating. »

« I can’t see actually. I do not have the kind of vision you do. It smells interesting though. »

« Oh, I’m sorry. Then maybe I will skip the full tour and take you to some of the shallower ones and the sensory pools. I want you to feel a Mother, but the more recent ones are better for that anyway. »

We start to float up along a cliff, I can smell the fashions changing over time. Some smell very distinct but mostly it is a gradual change. Each time I smell a particularly clear Mother, Soil Parent gives me more information. I am aware of Pack Guider softly following.

I cannot imagine being able to know who my whelper’s whelper’s were, let alone the generations of her Mothers that Soil Parent knows back more cycles than I can really comprehend. Eventually we are at a depth where my body is not being crushed and I am beginning to be able to see the Gardens. They are a series of vine-like patterns of planted growth dotted with hard, what appears like stone, cones. Some of these have a small amount of scent to them but they smell like the stones around them in the main.

« OK. This is my 8-Mother. Can you see how she had a lot of anemones in her garden. She loved them. The fashion was for brain coral at the time, so she was a bit of a revolutionary. So, if you approach it carefully then make contact with it like you do with me. » I creep forward, stabilising my movement. When my nose touches the beak, I get a jolt of a memory that I could not understand. It is full of colours my eyes cannot perceive, like the memories Soil Parent shares with me.

« What is it? »

« It is a memory placed there by her Lorekeeper and Suitors. She made a strong impression, which is why it has lasted all these cycles! It was she who brought in the renewal of the memories by Lorekeepers. From here on they are all pretty clear still. » We slowly make our way towards the surface, stopping at each beak to experience a moment of them. Most are impressions of an individual that only an octopus would be able to understand but Soil Parent’s 5-Mother seems like the kind of octopus I would like to meet. Soil Parent tells me about each of them. She stops, touching the beaks herself and thinks of them. She is somehow topping up this wonderful resource.

« Over time they tend to get a bit more exaggerated as octopus remember the memory not the individual. I like to remind the beaks of the other side. Like where 4-Mother was actually not as strict as many thought her, she liked clown fish and she would go off with her Heir (Cove Mother’s 2-Mother) when she was overwhelmed by life as a Mother and watch them. And Cove Mother’s Mother was not the kind octopus everyone thought her. She was not always kind to Mother, swimming too fast when she was a young Heir and blaming her. » The two share a moment I do not understand except it involves feelings of Pack and care.

We reach a point where the garden shifts, showing two Mother-gardens but there are no beaks. « These are mine and Mother’s. You see how Mother has had these curly grasses planted? Lorekeeper »– at this she gestures, shortening one arm – « has been working with the gardeners night and day to develop these to grow in this spot so Mother can have it. » Then she drifts a little further and shows me the last plot. « This is mine. It is not very full yet, I am not Mother yet. But I have put a few things in. »

I recognise the last-shell. The one her hermit crab wore when he Walked (or Dissolved?!). It is amongst some grass; I can see it as the grass waves in the water. She is looking at it too. She scents sadness again. I must breathe soon, but I make contact with her and send her Pack.

« Thank you Curious. » I try not to be offended that she missed out my Runt, but she never needs to call me Set. She doesn’t know of dog ways and she is trying to be friendly and she is sad. I think Pack Guider notices the small shift I made though. Soil Parent eventually breaks the connection and thinks, « Lorekeeper » – that gesture again – « is still dark about me putting this in. He says I will regret it, but he is wrong. » Pack Guider is exasperated but whether with this “Lorekeeper” or her Heir it is not clear.

I can’t hold my breath much longer.

« I will be back in a moment. »

« yes, of course. I am sorry. You are as smart as an octopus, it’s difficult to remember that you need air to breathe! »

I shoot up. Gulp down some air and push myself back down. Soil Parent is travelling towards me lazily, Pack Guider a dark shadow behind her.

« One more thing to show you. » She is rippling and swishing very slightly. She is feeling mischievous. She heads to the surface. When she gets there, she hauls herself out of the water and all her grace is gone as she is crushed by the air the way I was crushed by the deep-water. My limbs feel heavy as I take my own weight again. She waits for Pack Guider to be fully out of The Tangle and drags herself over to a string of divots in the rock.

« This is where I came into The Tangle! »

« Have you ever wondered why? »

« Yes. But not much. Once I knew you weren’t going to eat me, it seemed like Soil’s will. » I can feel her confusion. She is trying to create a question, but she isn’t sure where to start. She gives up for now. I look forward to hearing what it was.

« Well, these pools are very important to us. They are an extension of the gardens. Any octopus who wishes to feel in a particular way can select a pool and experience it. The water is full of octopus emotion. Each one is dedicated to a different part of the emotional experience. The water in them changes infrequently so they can get quite potent. » The thought creeps into the back of my head...

« I drank from one of these. »

« Yes. »

« I’m sorry. I would not have done so if I had known. »

« It’s OK, » she is chucking and flailing her tails and Pack Guider, though her sides are heaving, joins the mirth, « you came out of it far worse than we did and in the long run I am very happy that you came into The Tangle. »

« Me too. » We stay looking at the place where I first perceived an octopus. How far I have come! « Would you like to go in one now? »

« No thanks. I would like to go back to our cave – Mother will need to see what news has been brought from the Chasm Suitor’s Fayre. » All mirth is gone from Pack Guider. We enter the water, the two octopus, happy to be back in their medium, me not knowing what my medium is any more.