“C’mon, I think I know where we can sit,” and Kris hoped that the darkness would be enough to conceal the evidence that part of the ledge had been an abattoir.
She walked, Patti so close behind her that she hoped the girl wouldn’t lurch into her and knock them both off the ledge, to a point just above the fire: a fair-sized one, its flames reflecting off the faces seated around it.
“Hey, we’ll have a balcony seat to the events,” Kris said. “Front and center.” Kris sat herself down while Patti Sue edged to Kris’ right, with no one beyond her. Yet.
Kris tried to identify the faces in the firelight: she spotted Zainal easily, sitting beside Mitford; Bass, Murphy, a Rugarian, and two Deskis just beyond them and then faces she vaguely recognized from the march but couldn’t put names to.
Patti Sue’s fearful gasp alerted her to an approach and the girl gripped her arm with surprisingly strong fingers.
“Easy,” Kris muttered under her breath for she recognized the newcomer. “It’s only Jay Greene and he’s decent. Hi, Jay. Don’t know if you’ve met my buddy yet. Patti Sue, this is Jay Greene and he’s a veritable Nimrod with Boy Scout snares. Join us. You can be our bodyguard.”
Kris regretted that flippancy the moment it was out of her mouth, for Patti Sue tried to get inside Kris’ skin she sat so close. Kris sternly told herself that she might be as nervous if she’d been raped repeatedly, too. After all, that imminent possibility had prompted her to dare to steal the flitter and secrete herself in the forest, hadn’t it?
Greene sat down a couple of good handspans from Kris. She took the moment to turn to Patti Sue.
“You’re about choking the circulation off in my arm. Relax!” she murmured and felt the clutching fingers ease their stranglehold. She could almost feel the effort it took Patti Sue to remove her hands from Kris’ arm. “What’s the scam, Jay? You heard anything?”
“Yeah,” and the firelight glinted off his white teeth as he smiled. “I hear that we are not alone!” He spaced the words out so that they sounded like the voice-over of a video trailer.
Patti Sue’s hands returned to crush Kris’ upper arm.
“I knew that,” Kris said and this time just peeled the fingers off, putting the girl’s hands back in her lap and giving them a final pat to stay there.
“No, I mean, we’re not the only flotsam that got planted on this planet,” Greene said.
“Really? Hmm, makes sense, though,” Kris said in her most nonchalant tone. Why had she been saddled with such a nerd like Patti Sue! “There were only—what—five-six hundred plonked down in our field. I wouldn’t call that an efficient disposition of redundant personnel. That ship they herded us into could handle who knows how many more. I know there were two levels, if not more. Maybe they did a clean sweep of all the holding cells on Barevi. That would make the journey here economically feasible. Any more humans?”
“Well,” and Greene shrugged, “I’m not sure anyone could tell.”
Patti Sue let out little whimpers.
“Look on the bright side, will you, Patti Sue?” Kris said. “You weren’t one of them and you’re safe with us. Isn’t she, Jay?”
“Safe as houses,” he said in a warmly reassuring tone for which Kris gave him a broad smile and a thumbs-up with her left hand which Patti couldn’t see. “In fact, the more the merrier. So long as we can exchange information and band together to solve the problems this place poses.”
“Any other scuttlebutt?”
“Like what?”
“Did that scouting party Mitford sent out find what brings in the grain harvest?”
“No,” Greene said, shaking his head. “They did find other storage caves, all hollowed out of solid rock. And more valleys of fields and stuff. That’s where…” Kris gave him a quick flash of her hand to stop him saying anything that would set Patti Sue off again. “…Where they could see other heavy vehicles had been parked,” he finished off.
They all heard the murmur of voices and saw that people were emptying out of the cave now and either making their way down to the bonfire level or finding spaces on the ledge.
“Do we start off with a national anthem, or a prayer?” Kris quipped to Jay.
“I doubt the good sergeant is religiously inclined,” Greene remarked.
“For which I am deeply grateful.” Kris felt Patti Sue’s body stiffen with resentment of her flippancy. “We need a realist.”
“I second that!”
Chuck Mitford had now stood up and raised his hands for quiet.
“This is Mitford speaking in case any of you can’t see me,” he said in his gravelly parade-ground voice that echoed slightly in the ravine. “We’ve had several teams out on re-con—reconnaissance to those of you who don’t know military slang.
“We’ve found storage caves with enough grains—which we humans, at least, can digest—to supply us for years. We don’t know who—or what—stored the stuff but they’re unlikely to notice what we have taken, and will take, once we get our commissary organized. We’re lucky to have some botanists among us who’ve figured out what we can and cannot eat of the local stuff, berries and roots. As you’ve all found out, the water tastes pretty good.
“We’re also looking for additional quarters so we won’t be jammed in like sardines…”
“Like those transport ships, maybe?” a man added with droll bitterness and got a laugh.
Mitford’s grin was visible in the firelight as he held up his hand. “We’ve also discovered that there were other parties…landed here. We haven’t made contact but if anyone does, send your buddy back here for assistance. Don’t lead anybody here. Even other Terrans.” He paused to let that warning sink in. “We’ll be safe sticking together with folks we’ve already got to know on the trek here. We’ll integrate anyone who wants to, but I think they ought to be vetted first.”
There were murmurs of agreement there.
“No more aliens…” a voice said.
“That’s a no-go,” Mitford said sternly, glaring in the direction of the comment. “I make that plain right here and now. I don’t know where you were on Barevi, but I learned that some of the aliens got just as many smarts as I do.” He jerked his thumb against his chest. “And some have skills I don’t. We get to make a fresh start on this planet so let’s leave that sort of crap behind us. Huh?” He had a wide murmur of support for that suggestion. “For those of you who didn’t know, it was the Deskis who found the caves for us. I doubt we could have. They climb like the spiders they resemble, only they’re humanoid like us. I don’t want to hear them called spiders anymore. Hear me? Well, hear me good. They were ripped away from their planet same as we were. So we treat them the same as we treat one of us—because they are one of us. Have I made that point clear enough?”
The response he got was vociferous from most, which reassured Kris. She tried to spot those who were reluctant to grasp that announcement.
“A Deski carried May Framble’s kid on the trek and never made a single complaint.” The look on Mitford’s face chided those who had bitched. “So remember, they’re in this, too, and pulling their own weight…what weight there is of them. The Rugarians are part of us, too, by the same principle. They accounted for more of our catch than human hunters did.” He grinned. “Crack slingshoters!
“Another thing we gotta get straight like right now!” He pointed downward to emphasize the immediacy. “Any nasty individual caught stealing someone else’s ration bars—or in the possession of more than a fair share—loses any he or she has on him or her and does latrine duty for a month. Understand?” He glared around the fire and up at the ledges. “We don’t have much to steal, but this colony isn’t going to tolerate any pilfering. Not no how, no way!” He sliced both hands across his body to indicate the finality of that statement. “You all got that straight?”
“Who made you boss, Mitford?” a male voice demanded irritably.
“You did!” Mitford jerked out his chin and glared in the dire
ction.
Kris thought the voice sounded like the same one that had protested including aliens. She wondered if it was Arnie the weasel-faced, but on second thought, Arnie wouldn’t have the guts to speak up about anything. He was the kind to go behind your back. And steal a sleeping girl’s ration.
“You want the job? Have it!” Mitford made as if to leave the bonfire.
There was immediate loud and vehement protest from human voices and, Kris was glad to hear, a waving of arms and hands from the Deskis and Rugarians.
“I’ve had years of knowing how to get even more ill-assorted bunches of bods working together than you possibly could, buddy…” and Mitford’s tone made that noun a dirty epithet, “so unless you can beat my twenty-seven years—fifteen of them as a master sergeant—close your mouth hole. Anybody else got some complaints about how I run this chickenshit outfit? No? Well, that shows you’ve some sense upstairs. I don’t like the assignment any more than you do. But I took it on and I’ll see it through until we know what’s what on this planet. So listen up now.
“We’ve got a base camp but we need to check out the area so we don’t get any surprises. We weren’t the only ones dropped, you know, and some might like to move into our own choice piece of suburban development.” That provoked some laughter. “Not much, right now…” and his pause suggested that he had many improvements in mind so there were a few groans. “But we’ll do well—if we’re let alone. So, two points…” And he held up his fingers. “First, we have sentries—with their eyes open—round the clock, even if we weren’t issued one. Second, when you hear me or a sentry bawling red alert.” And he cupped his hands around his mouth and roared the phrase, the sounds reverberating even as the people nearest him flinched back, with sheepish grins. “You come running as fast as you can, knives ready for action. Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty, my friends,” and his expression became very solemn. “We lost out back on Earth but you may be damned sure I don’t intend to lose out here. When we were dropped on that field, we got liberated again and I intend to stay free and make a great start! So anytime you hear Red Alert, whaddya do?” He cocked his head, hand to his ear.
“We come running, daddy,” the wit from the shadows beyond the fire yelled.
“You better believe it! We also got to stay healthy, so that means latrines and they need digging where we haven’t found long-drop holes. And throw in some sand every time you go. Keeps the smell down. We need hunters out every morning and we need volunteers to try foods and others to cook ’em. I talked to a lot of you on the way here but now I need to know which of you have specialist training like medics or chemistry or even survival courses. Everyone’s going to work at something here to make this go. And I don’t want any bitching about taking your turn at the dirty jobs. You’ll be rotated. Now, you individuals with special training that I haven’t had a chance to talk to, come to this side of the fire when this meeting’s over. You hunters, get your assignments from this Rugarian—he calls himself Slav—and he’s got the best throwing arm I’ve seen since Lou Gehrig.”
“Sarge, you weren’t born when Lou Gehrig played,” some wit yelled.
“Nope, but I sure saw enough footage on him in his prime. So hunters with Slav. I’ll need more scouting parties tomorrow, so if you want some exercise”—and there were guffaws at that—“see Zainal here.” “You trusting that Cat?”
“Until hell freezes over,” Mitford said in a tone that brooked absolutely no argument. “He got dumped here just like the rest of us and I’m not brave enough to ask him why.”
Again a ripple of surprise but Mitford went on. “I want twenty individuals to make another run to get more grain…lemme see a few hands before I volunteer you.” The hands were raised, far more than twenty. “Now, one last thing. There’re more males than females. Some of our women got raped by the Catteni. We’re humans! No one bothers a woman in this camp.”
At the first mention of rape, Patti Sue moaned and tried to burrow into Kris. She was trembling all over as Kris put a protective and reassuring arm about her.
“What about a gal raping one of us?” the same wit called, and got snarling reactions from the women nearest him.
“If that kinda rape’s inevitable, relax and enjoy it…buddy,” a woman’s voice called out, a distinctly bitter and contemptuous edge to her words.
“I’ll personally stake out any man forcing a woman,” Mitford said, holding up his big and capable hands. “The same goes for any female dick-teasing.” He paused a beat and then gave a wry grin. “That is, if anyone has any energy for anything after a long day here.”
“You see, Patti Sue,” Kris murmured soothingly, patting the nervous hands clenching and unclenching on her arm, “and he means it.”
“He can mean it, but what if…”
“No what-ifs, Patti Sue,” Kris said as firmly as she could. But Mitford’s call for explorers would give her the freedom to leave this clinging vine tomorrow and do something more noteworthy than gutting squatters. “You heard and he means it.”
Patti continued to moan, despite her earlier promise not to.
“Now, I’ll listen to intelligent questions, preferably ones I can answer,” Mitford said. “I’ll keep an open office but if I’m busy, talk to Bass here. Zainal, you just got appointed our alien liaison man, only because you speak better Barevi than I do. Dowdell—stand up there, and you, too, Murphy. They’re acting as corporals. Got any complaints? Bring ’em to them. I assure you they’ll be looked into and remedied…if humanly possible.”
“Sergeant Mitford?” A man called, standing up so he could be seen, “Any ideas why we got dumped here?”
“Zainal says Cattenis do this to settle some planets. They come back at intervals to see if anyone’s still alive and breathing.”
“Then we won’t get off?”
“I didn’t say that,” and Mitford’s voice was grim. “But they have to land to take a look-see, don’t they? There’s no guarantee it’s them’ll take off in the ship, is there?”
That comment brought a lot of hopeful murmurs and muffled remarks.
“And one good reason to be friendly to the one Catteni we got on our side,” Mitford went on. “Any other questions?”
“Then who’s farming this planet?”
“Good question and I don’t know the answer.”
“Does the Cat?”
“Our Catteni ally,” and Mitford paused to be sure everyone caught his use of the full name, “does not, as his knowledge of this planet is almost as spotty as ours…except he’d heard that some of the indigenous specimens are dangerous. Outside of this camp, you keep your eyes and ears open. Or live long enough to tell us what you saw or heard.”
“Gee thanks, sarge,” and a ripple of laughter ran through the crowd.
“Everyone’s in remarkably good spirits,” Kris said to Greene.
“Amazing how a full belly improves your outlook.”
“Some bastard stole Patti Sue’s rations,” she added.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Greene replied in a low voice. “We can get her more. Or should you keep them safe for her?”
“After what Mitford said about having more than my fair share? Thank you, no.”
“Ooops! Hmmm. Well, I don’t think she’ll lose ’em again. Maybe you should trade buddies with Sandy.”
“A thought,” Kris replied, knowing even as she spoke that she’d be conscience-stricken if she did. “Why should I saddle her with Patti?”
“She’s one tough lady and will watch out for the girl,” Jay said. “And someone’s going to have to watch for her because she’s sure one nervous kid.”
Kris sighed. Decisions, decisions. But she wasn’t going to be tied by Patti Sue to the cave and not get some “exercise.” And she’d survived on her own on Barevi so she was confident she could be useful as a scout or food hunter here on…wherever they were.
She cupped her hands to her mouth before she could think twice. “Hey, sarge, does this p
lanet have a name?”
Mitford looked up, trying to see her in the darkness beyond the firelight.
“Bjornsen? Zainal, you guys name your planets?”
Zainal stepped into the firelight. “Only numbers,” he said in Barevi, shrugging.
“What about ‘Bounty’? Like in Mutiny on the…” a woman called.
“Alcatraz?” “Be positive—El Dorado.”
The exchange of names and opinions stirred an uproar which Mitford let go on for a while before he held up his hand.
“Murphy found some sort of chalk. He’ll put it by the cave entrance and those of you who can write”—there were laughs—“can put up your choice of name. We’ll settle the matter tomorrow right here,” and he pointed to the fire, “when we issue tomorrow’s progress report. Got me?”
“Gotcha!” was bellowed back at Mitford from every corner and the word bounced about the ravine.
“Okay, then. Sentries, take your positions. You’ll be relieved at first moonrise. Dis-MISSED!”
Despite the military order, Mitford was grinning as he stepped back from the fire and into the darkness beyond it.
“C’mon, Patti Sue,” Kris said, rising to her feet. “I want to find Sandy and see where she’s sleeping. That way you’ll know who to go to tomorrow.”
Patti Sue was clutching her arm again. “Tomorrow? You’ll be going? Where? You can’t leave me!”
“Honey, I can and I will,” Kris said. “You’ll be all right. You heard Mitford. No one’s going to mess with you.”
“But supposing…”
“Shut up, Patti Sue,” Kris said firmly, giving the girl a shake. “I can’t baby-sit you every minute of the day.”
“Oh,” and Patti sank back in on herself.
“Now, Miss Patti,” Greene said in a soothing voice, making no move toward the frightened girl, “you will be safe. Sandy and I are supposed to inventory the supplies we’ve got and what’s been brought in. We may have to use the walls for our records but I got some of the chalk Murphy found and you can be our secretary. Is that what you did on Earth?”
“Secretary?” Patti’s voice took on a little substance. “Yes, I was secretary. A good one, but…”
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