by Mark Eller
"In other words, he was a tad rank," Aaron answered uncharitably. Delmac, always a prickly and proud man, had been accused of taking on city ways by his clan. Because of this, he quit bathing while among them.
Honesty made Aaron admit Delmac deserved some sympathy. While it could not be denied Delmac showed every sign of having taken on some city ways, it also could not be denied he gave his people good service while in N'Ark. The Clans had not always been the flavor of the month with the Isabellan Assembly. More than a decade earlier a strong political contingent wanted to shove them onto reservations so the vast Clan lands could be grabbed by ordinary settlers and the more influential families.
Delmac, with Aaron's help, had been instrumental in making sure this did not happen. Afterward, the clansman buckled down and fought for every new right and privilege the Clan gained. As a warrior who had fought and bled, and then as a diplomat, he devoted his life to his people. Because of this, Delmac deserved respect from those he had served. Unfortunately, few of the Clan realized his sacrifices.
"I don't like Delmac," Autumn said, grim faced, "but he's going to do something big. The event is shaded from me. I think it will make you sad."
"Not many people like him," Aaron admitted. "Including me. Even so, he's an honorable man."
"Yes," Missy agreed. "His honor is so strong he's inflexible. Aaron, I haven't had time to tell you this. Your archeologist is here. She chose to trust your promises, so she came and brought a team of four with her."
"I brought several rather large books along," Aaron assured her. "Has anything else happened while I was away?"
"Not much. We're trying to figure a way around the transportation problem. I brought it up to Renford when he finally returned. He thought the Chins might be able to ride runabouts."
Aaron was absolutely astounded by the simplicity of the idea and by his own stupidity. He should have considered it long ago. "Of course!"
Missy's expression did not appear hopeful. "It won't work. He got on one and took it for a ride through a field where the grasses were high. Riding was a struggle, and he didn't make it very far. The grass kept getting caught in the pedals and wheels. The effort exhausted Renford in less than half a mile.
"But he isn't very strong," Aaron protested.
"Fine. The Chins might be able to ride for two miles or even three. I don't see where there's an advantage in short term gain when it will exhaust your warriors and keep them from making their best distance in a full day."
"No," Aaron admitted. "You had me hopeful though."
"We'll keep thinking on it."
"So where are my archeologists?"
"Outside," she answered. "Playing bocce."
"Bocce," Aaron said. Having seen it played, he remembered something about the game. As he recalled, there was a small ball called a marker. One of the players threw the marker away. Each player then took turns throwing or rolling one or two larger balls after it. The closest ball won the point.
"Isn't it too dark out to play?"
"I did my best to make them happy," Missy explained. "I had lanterns hung from a few dozen stakes we pounded into the ground."
"I'd best get out there and make their acquaintance."
"You probably should," she agreed.
* * *
Heavy clouds hid the stars. Only a hint of the night's crescent moon peaked from behind one thin covering. A lack of natural light didn't bother the bocce players. More than enough lanterns hung from stakes for them to see the bright orange ball they were after.
Aaron remained silent, watching the only male line up for a shot. Hauling back his arm, he swung it forward in a careful line, releasing the wooden ball on a perfectly exact trajectory, if perfect could be described as hitting the two inch wide base of a tree fifteen feet from the target.
"Aidan Franks!" a young, blond-haired woman laughed "You're hopeless. My old grandmother could do better."
"Sybil,Lesson," the man replied with a smile, "may I remind you your grandmother won the county championship the last three years running."
"A lot you know," she shot back. "She came in second this year."
"Quiet," the older woman ordered. She was fiery-haired and carried herself with superb confidence. Her walk, the way she held her body, even the way she turned her head and the tone of her voice said she was in charge. Part of her air, Aaron knew, came from her age. She looked to be in her thirties, perhaps even pushing the beginnings of her early forties, while the rest of her party appeared to be in their early to late twenties. Still, age differences accounted for only a part of her confidence. Her manner said breeding, and with breeding came the habit of command.
Not surprising, really. As a rule, in Aaron's home world, archeology had not paid well, if at all. Most archeologists depended on family money to get by. Only occasionally did a person of average means have the luck, the perseverance, and the connections to follow the profession. He saw no reason why matters should be different here.
The woman's ball, Aaron noted, was red, stripped with green. Another ball of the same design lay more than seven feet from the target. Considering the target rested over fifty feet away, Aaron supposed her attempt wasn't too bad.
Eyes squinting, she threw. Her ball made a controlled swish through the grass on a trajectory and speed that looked exactly right. Standing alertly, she leaned forward, head canted to the side, eyebrows raised, while the ball headed for its target. Still yards short, it hit a lump in the grass, swerved to the side, and rolled down a gentle slope to rest ten feet to the left and three feet short.
"Great throw, Leona," the last player of their group said. She, too, was female, and a very good looking one. Blond, tall and shapely, the lantern light glistened off clothes specially made to suit her figure. Her face appeared almost patrician. Instead of beautiful, it was striking.
"As if," Aidan, chuckled. "Come on Laura, show us how it's done. Whip it out there."
Much to Aaron's surprise, Laura did whip it. Hauling back her arm, she threw her yellow and black ball through the grass so hard Aaron knew it would roll well past the target… and it would have except it struck a tuft of grass and deflected by a few degrees. Then it struck a small rock, slowing its progress. She actually hit the target, sending her ball on a wild tangent while knocking the target ball back at least three yards tostop not two feet from a violet and pink ball, making that one the winner.
"Point and game," Sybil said with understated aplomb.
"You've won three games in a row," Aidan noted, "And every time it's been by luck."
"If luck wins out over skill, I'll take it any day," she replied. "Another game?"
"She always does that," a woman's voice said at Aaron's side. He would have jumped if Missy hadn't mentioned Leona Harbor had a team of four.
"Does what? Win?" Aaron asked.
"No, I'm speaking of Laura, not Sybil. In polite company Laura is more controlled than anyone I know, especially if her parents are present. Once she gets away from the prim and proper, she deliberately drops the facade and lives with uncontrolled energy. She could have won every game tonight if she wanted, but she arranges matters so the game always goes to somebody else."
Aaron pointed. "If she's Laura Bainridge those others are Aidan Franks, Sybil Lesson, and of course, the indomitable Miss Leona Harbor. That means you must be Edna Balandice."
"The same," she answered, "and please call me Edna instead of Miss Balandice. We all agreed to go by our first names until this little adventure is over. We've been told it's a common custom inside Chin, and since most of us have known each other close to forever, the change wasn't much of a stretch."
"Common because most Chins only possess one name," Aaron explained.
"Yes, we heard that too. By the way, I've no hard feelings toward you despite our personal history."
Surprised, Aaron turned fully to look at her, Perhaps twenty, he figured, but possibly decades older or even a few years younger. She owned one of those faces whic
h concealed its true age with an air of timelessness. Her unnaturally dark hair was cut sassy short, and her eyes were darker than her hair. A striking woman, and somehow familiar, but he felt fairly sure they had never before met.
"You don't place me, do you?" she asked.
"No," Aaron admitted.
"Not surprising. This is our first face to face, but you met my aunt a couple times. Do you remember Assemblywoman Sporlain?"
"Yes." Aaron felt no need to say more. Sporlain had done everything in her power to ruin him and the Clans. After failing,, she suffered a mental breakdown and died soon afterward. Her maternal family, he now recalled, was the Balandices. Amanda had long ago called war on the family, but he hadn't paid much attention to the details.
"Well, like I said, no hard feelings. My aunt attacked someone she thought weak and found out different. Your lawyer, Miss Bivins, went after my family and put most in the poorhouse or prison, except for those who agreed to work for her."
"And you don't resent us?" Aaron asked carefully.
"Nope." Edna shook her head, making her short hair bounce in a rippled pattern. "The family disowned Dad twenty years before everything went bust. Apparently, he made the mistake of becoming friends with a preacher's daughter when still a boy. Through her, he acquired scruples and learned principles. When he later refused to join the family in their corrupt games, they disinherited him. Dad always said it was the best thing that ever happened to him. He learned to make an honest living as a saddler, married my mom, who happened to be the preacher's daughter, and then they made me and my two sisters. After Amanda Bivins destroyed the corrupt part of the family, she looked around to see where she could leave the remains, and there was dad busy making saddles. Since he was the only member in the immediate family who wasn't in involved in something dirty, Miss Bivins informed the courts she had no problem with him assuming what remained of the Balandice leadership. Dad turned it down, of course, up until both my moms pointed out it would open doors for us kids."
Leaning forward, she kissed the tip of Aaron's nose and grinned at his startled expression. "Like I said. No hard feelings."
"And now you're filthy rich," Aaron pointed out.
"Nah, just a little better than well off. There wasn't much left after the infighting, lawyers, and court fees, and dad divided it up with a few distant relatives whose ancestors were shoved out of the family a couple generations back." She waved a hand toward the players. "Nobody here is rich, although Laura and Leona were once. We're comfortable, mind you, but not rich. So, did you get the books Miss Bayne promised?"
"In the house," Aaron told her.
"Oh, good!" She grabbed his hand. "Game called people! The money man is here, and he brought us some books."
Before Aaron knew what was happening, she dragged him toward the house. Apparently, he did not move fast enough for her liking because she stayed a full pace ahead while still hanging onto his hand.
He didn't move fast enough for the others, either. Leona Harbor's arm draped over his shoulder, helping him along. Aaron smelled fresh sweat and clean hair as her unnaturally bright red locks caught in a breeze and tickled his cheek and nose.
"Well, mate," Leona said in a slightly wind roughened voice. "Hurry it up so I can see them."
"Yeah, mate," Aidan Franks added from behind. "Put them books in our hands and I promise we'll investigate your site at first light."
Edna looked over her shoulder at them. Aaron was still attached to her by her hand, but she slowed her pace to match her companions.
"The site's a long way from here," Aaron reminded them.
"So what," Laura answered from behind him. "The entire world knows you have a Talent Stone. We know what you can do with it, too. All you have to do is zap our gear and us to where we're supposed to be, and everybody is happy."
Aaron knew his Talent had left the elevated realms of secrecy a long time ago. He had not known the nature of his Talent had become such common knowledge.
Autumn and Missy were still in the sitting room when the group reached it. Missy's eyes held a knowing smile, and Autumn giggled. When Edna spotted Aaron's books, she released his hand and lunged.
But she was far too slow. Laura got there first. She grabbed, knocked the stack askew, and one heavy volume slid free to hit the floor with a solid clunk. Ignoring the fallen book, she lifted the next one up, a massive affair of thirteen hundred pages. Leona took it from her hands. Holding it like it was her youngest child, she slowly opened the cover and turned to the table of contents.
"Ahhh." Her contentment washed through the entire room. Edna hovered over her shoulder as pages were slowly turned and the pictures were studied.
Aidan and Sybil leafed through the remaining volume.
"Hey," Aidan exclaimed. "Are you sure these books come from another world. If I didn't know better, I'd say these stone monoliths are the same ones we talked about yesterday."
Sybil nodded. "It's listed here as Easter Island, just the same as we call it."
Separate from the others, and left with no room to wiggle into a grouping, Laura stooped to pick up the final volume. Her face took on a puzzled expression as she studied the cover. Slowly, she leafed through it, pausing whenever she encountered a picture. Her patrician face gradually fell into disappointment and then into disillusion.
"These books are fables," she finally said. Getting no response, she spoke louder. "I said these books are fables. They are made up."
"What are you talking about?" It almost seemed to take a major act of will for Leona to tear her eyes off the paragraph she read.
"These things don't exist. They never have. Ever."
Leona sighed. "Let me see." She accepted the book. Her expression fell into shock and disappointment as she quickly leafed through the pages. Her leafing hand stilled. Her eyes grew larger, and her hands began to shake.
"I've seen something like this," she whispered. "I didn't know what it was, but I once saw a cliff-side that looked exactly like this. I never realized I looked at bones." Her face paled. "I know where some of these sites are. People, we can study this book, and then go dig up our own bones where these-these things were found," She flipped to the front cover and read the title. "Dinosaurs! People, this book will make us!"
"They are only yours on loan," Aaron reminded her. "Three years after you quit working for me, they belong to the world."
Looking at Aaron, her eyes filled with purpose. "But we'll be first. It's enough. Mister Turner, we'll do a fine job on your dig. I promise you five years of my life just so long as I get to study these books and another year if you allow me to copy them in my own hand."
"Okay," Aaron agreed. "Just so long as you don't take too much time about it. I brought a dozen others, too. I thought you might like to see these three first."
"By the Gods," Aidan murmured. "I'll worship at your feet."
Aaron smiled. "I'd rather you didn't. Autumn, get your things together because you win. We head to New Beginning tonight."
"Well, then," Missy put in, her first words, Aaron realized, since he reentered the sitting room, "I guess I'm sleeping alone tonight."
She did not look the least bit put off by the idea.
"You can come with us if you like," Aaron told her. "I'm going on to the Chin camp later on."
"No, thanks." Her voice was very emphatic. "The last time Mister Patton and I spoke was not very pleasant. I'll let a few months, or years, go by before putting myself in his presence again."
"Probably for the better," Aaron agreed. Harvest Patton's temper had spiraled slightly out of control once he discovered Missy's feelings for him were not quite as intense as his were for her. He wanted marriage, and she did not. Aaron had overheard Missy pointing out if they were married Patton could have sex with any unmarried woman who said yes. Missy, on the other hand, would have to be satisfied with just him.
Aaron wasn't sure what part of Missy's statement bothered Patton the most, her unwillingness to limit herself
to one lover or referring to sex with Patton as 'just'.
Whatever the reason, pain showed in Patton's eyes whenever he saw Missy. Missy was more than willing to take any flak Patton tossed her way, but Aaron knew she didn't want to hurt him more than she already had. Despite telling him no, she did love Harvest Patton, though not enough to marry him.
The entire situation made Aaron uncomfortable. Patton didn't know Aaron was one of Missy's bedmates. He didn't look forward to Patton finding out.
"Okay, people," he called out. "Get your things together and let's get moving. We leave within the hour."
He was answered by blank looks.
"I told you we were ready to go," Edna said.
"Me, too," Autumn added. "I asked Missy to pack my stuff before you took me to N'Ark. The only one we're waiting on is you."
* * *
Fortunately, Aaron's arrival point in the staked-out warehouse area remained clear. On two occasions, that had not been the case. He once arrived with one foot planted squarely on top of a bundle of stakes and barely caught his balance before going down. On the second occasion he found himself trying to balance on loosely piled lumber. When the lumber tumbled, he fell with it. The woman responsible found herself relocated back to Jutland.
"Dark," Edna commented.
"We don't have many lanterns or much fuel for them," Aaron commented.
"Not complaining," she said evenly. "I can't see more than a few yards, so you better point us toward where we're bunking out."
Aaron grimaced. Despite their protestations otherwise, these people belonged to the rich or the semi-rich. They were used to the best and would probably expect him to put them in something comfortable. New Beginning had a lot of completed homes, but he'd be damned if he'd oust his regular workers from them.
"All the houses are taken," he told them. "You'll have to stay in one of the empty tents the same as me."
"Good enough," Leona said, lifting her baggage. "It will take three or four trips to get everything stored. Lead the way."