Their traditional route from the sea to the plains just happened to lie by the river farms of the settlers where quantities of livestock grazed, too numerous to be shut up during the migration. So the settlers had devised a method of herding the snakes, making certain by a variety of means that few escaped to wreak havoc among the herds and flocks.
At first the settlers resorted to crude methods of keeping the snakes in line, destroying far too many for the conservationists’ peace of mind. Then hunters from other planets learned about the drives, as they were originally called, and begged to join in for the thrill and excitement of adding such a deadly specimen to their trophies. These men also had some excellent suggestions to give the Doona/Rralans, gained from similar drives of dangerous species to which Ken Reeve, Ben Adjei, the colonists’ veterinarian, and Hrrestan listened with interest.
“Make it into a real Hunt,” they were advised. “Attract the thrillseekers and you’ll not only make some money out of it, but you’ll have enough help to keep the snakes on the right track.”
So the Hunt became an organized sporting feature; one which put considerable credit into the colony’s treasury and one which became safe enough to advertise as a spectator sport for those who wanted titillation without danger.
At first, Ken and Hrrestan, with Ben’s advice, organized the Hunt, but gradually, as Todd and Hrriss showed genuine aptitudes as Hunters and leaders, the management had been turned over to them. Much had to be arranged to ensure that injuries were reduced to a minimum; that visitors were always teamed up with experienced Hunters or in safely prepared blinds; that the horses hired out were steady, well-blooded animals, accustomed to snake-stench and less likely to plunge out of control and drop their riders into the maw of waiting Big Mommas. There were hundreds of minor details to be overseen by Todd and Hrriss before Hunt Day.
When Todd and Hrriss got to their office, they found that much had already been put in hand by their assistants, based on assignments and duties from the last Hunt. Scouts had been given their posts in the salt marshes from which the migration began. Every homestead within ten klicks of the long-established route had had fences, walls, and buildings reinforced. “Sighters” who would fly above the swarm and monitor its progress had been chosen and their aerial vehicles serviced. “Lures” had volunteered. Mounted on two-wheeled motorized rough country bikes, they were specially trained to lead maverick snakes back to the main swarm and to kill snakes that could not be turned. Lures usually performed what had become a rite of passage for young Doona/Rralans: capturing or killing two snakes on a Hunt, or succeeding in stealing a dozen eggs from the marsh nests. In fact, this rite had become an honor sought after by hunters of every system. Many now came just to win accolades as proof of courage and to have their names added to this new legend.
Those who did not wish to expose themselves to physical danger were accommodated in snake blinds, built along, but back from, the river trail. From these, spectators could enjoy this unique sight and excitement. The blinds were sturdily constructed of sealed rla wood, strong enough, though in truth any Great Big Momma Snake could have knocked one into splinters with its powerful snout. However, experiments with various odors had proved that a heavy citrus smell liberally poured on the outside of the blind covered the scent of the juicy morsels within and was a powerful deterrent to the snakes.
Twelve Teams of from twenty to forty horsemen and women rode in escort of the snake swarm. Clever riders on the quick, well-trained horses could head off renegades or stragglers, for some of the tiddlers were always breaking off the main group, looking for something to eat. These were considered fair game for Hunters wishing to kill, or capture, in proof of their prowess.
Approved weaponry—for the Treaty did not permit heavy weapons in the colony—were projectile rifles, metal-headed spears, compound bows and arrows, and any sort of club (though bludgeoning a snake to death, even a tiddler, was extremely dangerous.) Crossbows were the most popular for a quarrel and could penetrate right through a snake’s eye to its brain. The only problem was to then keep out of the way of the thrashing body in its death throes.
The worst headache for Todd and Hrriss was still the composition of the Teams, for they had to intersperse novice and experienced Hunters without jeopardizing team effectiveness. There were also some “solo” or small Teams of off-world hunters but they had to produce qualifications to hunt on their own: proof that they were experienced riders and projectile weapon marksmen; preferably letters from other authorized Hunts or Safari Groups.
As Todd scanned the list of those on his Team One, he noted with satisfaction that Kelly Solinari was on it. So, she’d be back from Earth! She’d be a good team second, even if she had been away from Doona for four years learning how to be a good diplomat at Alreldep. Another name, scrawled so badly that he couldn’t quite decipher it, was new to him but documentation showed that this J. Ladruo had participated in several well-known Safaris. Well, Team One had to take its share of novices.
He put that minor detail from his mind and went on to designate the places where they’d have to place charges that could be detonated to startle the snakes back into line. Usually the Beaters managed that, with drums, cymbals, flails and small arms fire, but he pored over the accounts of the last Hunt, to see where breakthroughs had occurred and how he could prevent them. He almost suspected the snakes of rudimentary intelligence the way some evaded Teams and Beaters. He’d begun looking at meteorology reports, too, for a wind from the wrong direction would make a shambles of the most careful plans. Drafting contingency plans for windy conditions was his next task.
“The first Hunters have arrived,” Hrriss told him, coming in with their documents.
Todd looked up, startled. “So soon?”
“Zooon?” Hrriss dropped his jaw in a grin. “You’ve been working too hard, my Zodd. Only two more days before the deluge!”
Todd groaned as he took the papers from Hrriss and checked the names off against the Hunt application list. Then he brightened. “Two more days and Kelly’ll be home.”
Hrriss’s grin deepened. “You’ll be happy to see her?”
“Sure, she’s the best second I ever had.” He didn’t notice the odd look his friend gave him.
* * *
Of the many people making their way to Doona for the Hunt, Kelly Solinari was probably the most excited. She couldn’t wait to breathe fresh air again on Doona. On Earth, you felt that taking a deep breath was a crime against your fellow Humans and besides, it didn’t smell good so why contaminate your lungs with government issue. She knew that Earth’s air had improved with stringent reductions of pollutants and the careful control of waste products but her lungs didn’t agree. She was also looking forward to eating “real” food again: the absolute calorie rationing on Earth was nothing short of a sophisticated form of starvation. For a born Doonan such as she, these four years were a prison and she was about to be set free.
There had been a lot of change on Earth since her father and mother had left the stagnant, crowded planet: and they’d been considered radical for wanting to emigrate. Now there was an active desire, especially among the young, to break away from their crowded, depleted home planet and go out to settle among the stars. New opportunities had created an aura of hope, lightening the general gloom of the population. The success of the Doonan experimental colony begged the question of when more planets would be made available. Without the Hrruban element, of course.
In the back of every mind lingered the warning of Siwanna, the awful memory of the destruction of another race. In Kelly’s diplomacy courses, the Siwanna Tragedy was brought up again and again to warn the eager young diplomats-to-be that such an error could be repeated. It had been an unforgettable and tragic shock that the Siwannese had suicided as a race when the colonists from Earth encountered them. They had been a gentle people, with too fragile a culture to survive contact with another intelligent s
pecies. Siwanna was empty now. Codep had erected a memorial to the race there, and had forbidden anyone to settle on the world whose inhabitants had been accidentally destroyed. And that was the beginning of the Noncohabitation Doctrine. No Human colony could be initiated on any planet already inhabited by sentient beings.
The Hrrubans’ strong culture and identity made them, in the administration’s eyes, a statistical rarity. The Doona colony was an exception, where colonization teams from two cultures had met accidentally. The first-contact groups were to regard all new races as fragile and potentially self-destructive. Depending on which teacher you were talking to, this meant Hrruba was Earth’s partner in the great task of opening up the galaxy for exploration and colonization. Or, conversely, Hrruba was an obstruction to Earth’s efforts. Kelly, who had been born on Doona, and had more Hrruban than Earth-born friends, was always ready to defend her Hrruban mates, and no one could match a Doonan in an argument.
Younger Terrans and her classmates generally shared her views. They wanted to see Humans allowed to live and prosper on new worlds. In the back of their minds was the idea of meeting and making friends with new alien races, though that thought was rarely voiced, not with so many older folk with ingrained habits ready to report them to noise monitors for loud talking. Who could have a decent argument in whispers?
It was so good to be home, even if Doona was crowded this season! Well, crowded for Doona, but only marginally inhabited compared to Terra. Kelly stared out of the hatch at the swarming mob on the landing field waiting for friends and family. It looked as if every single Human on Doona, all 45,000 of them, must be waiting to greet someone. There was even a cluster of Hrrubans, who enjoyed the spectacle of homecoming for its own sake.
She searched the crowd eagerly, hoping to see her own loved ones after her long absence. She’d be unlikely to see them, lost as they were in the mob of welcoming committees waiting to greet the important visitors who had traveled with her from Earth for the Snake Hunt. It had meant more ships coming in, a cheaper fare for her in consequence. And, to judge by the shuttles bearing the markings of other systems, Doona was already awash with those eager to be part of this primitive event.
One of her fellow passengers, Jilamey Landreau, had bored everyone at their table with his simulated-hunting triumphs. He considered that it was essential to his consequence to be at the Doonan Snake Hunt and kill “one of the big ones.” Preferably from horseback, to prove his prowess against a living target. Even as they were making their way down the gangplank, he was still blathering on about it to anyone who would listen.
Kelly, who had hunted snakes on horseback herself, had been the patient listener many a time. She’d recognized his name and decided that it was smarter for her to play it cool in his presence. Her diplomatic training had taught her how to hold her tongue. She was also too kind to make fun of someone who had so far defeated only computer-simulated prey.
She turned her back on him gratefully when her mother and father, Anne and Vic Solinari, approached her from the other side of the field, crying out their welcome, gesticulating for her to notice their position.
“Sweetheart!” Anne said, gathering her into her arms. “Oh, Kelly, welcome home!”
“Oh, Mom,” Kelly said, hugging her mother and suddenly feeling like a little girl again. “I missed you. Hi, Daddy.”
“You look so grown-up,” Vic said, embracing his daughter in turn. “I wasn’t sure we’d recognize you. You look just fine. How was the trip?”
“Long,” Kelly said, wrinkling her nose. “Cramped. Very smelly. All they had was canned Earth air.”
Vic laughed. “It’s the second thing that’s kept me from taking a trip back to Earth: the first is living in the crowded conditions. I sure don’t miss those little granite boxes! Well, come on! Your brothers and sisters are waiting to hear all about what you’ve been up to. All voice and video this time, not taped transmissions.”
“Am I okay for Team One, this year, Dad?” Kelly asked urgently.
Her parents laughed. “Formal notice came last week,” her father said, ruffling her hair. “And Michael’s kept that Appie mare of yours exercised and has kept your snake-skin in her stall so she won’t disgrace you, us, or Todd.”
Kelly breathed out a huge sigh of relief. “I was afraid we wouldn’t land in time.”
“Afraid Todd wouldn’t remember to put you on his team?” her mother said with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh, mother!” Kelly was glad of the excuse to go search for the luggage the handlers had just dumped on the tarmacadam.
Kelly finally found and threw the bags into the back of the family’s power sled. It was exhilarating to be back on Doona. It couldn’t just be the weaker gravity or the invigorating pure air that made her feel so light. She was happy.
As they flew toward their ranch, her mother and father pumped her for data about her life over the last four years. She didn’t stop talking for one moment all the way home. The weather was gorgeous, and Vic kept the top of the sled down so they could enjoy the sun.
Then he was turning the sled into the gate of the family ranch, some klicks distant from the original First Community buildings. The new town had been built some distance from the original colony site, out of the path of snake migration. Their ranch abutted the Reeve farm on one side and the Hu property on the other. Behind them was the red sandstone back of Saddle Ridge, no-being’s-land except for the wild animals native to Doona. Beyond that and the river was the Hrruban First Village. Every landmark came rushing back to her like the tide coming back up the Bore River from the distant sea.
She knew her mother and father were struggling against laughter as she kept inhaling and exhaling until she was hyperventilating. But she couldn’t seem to get her lungs cleared of all that stinking canned air. And she couldn’t keep from swiveling her head about her, wishing it were on a 360-degree socket. The sheer space, just loose and lying around, was a sight for her eyes.
Student housing allotment on Earth was very cramped, even for a junior diplomat trainee in Alreldep. No special treatment was given one who had graduated with honors or taken the advanced degree in only a year. She had had to endure the same tiny quarters as any other beginner in what she liked to call Diplodep. She had missed having room to stretch out, and the view of faraway horizons. She had longed for that almost as much as she had missed her family. And Todd. And today was the Hunt.
They were nearly at the ranch house now, and Kelly felt her heart pounding for pure happiness. Two of the farm dogs paced the sled, barking their heads off. Kelly leaned out, calling their names and trying to pet their heads as they ran. Vic coasted the sled to a stop in between the house and the barn. When he turned the ignition off, he gave Kelly one more quick hug.
“Welcome home, sweetie. Hey!” he yelled at the house. “Lookit what I brung home!”
Joyfully, Kelly leaped out of the sled and into the arms of her brothers and sisters. The two smallest, Diana and Sean, tried to jump into her arms. The dogs raced around them, barking and jumping and trying to lick her face.
“Hello, coppertop,” she hailed her brother Michael, who waved from the door of the barn and hurried up to meet her. Michael was a year her senior, but they had always pretended to be twins. Their faces were very much alike, with broad foreheads, wide golden hazel eyes, and strong pointed chins. His hair was as fiery a red as hers and just as thick. Their mother always said they reminded her of two matches in a box. Their father, more kindly, merely called them autumn-colored, to suit their autumn birthdays.
“Hi, hothead,” Michael said with a broad grin on his face, swinging her around in a circle. He was a very junior veterinary resident, working under Ben Adjei at the Doona/Rrala Animal Hospital. Michael was still clad in his white tunic, but was stripping it off as he steered her toward the house. “Hurry up and change into your gear. They’re going to start Gathering the Hunt at twelve hun
dred hours. Go scrub the ship stink off your skin, or the horses’ll run from you, not the snakes. Unless you’re too tired to participate?” he asked teasingly.
“Not a chance!” Kelly said, wriggling free and heading toward the house. “It’s what I hurried home for! Oh, how I’ve missed Calypso.”
“That’s what Todd said you’d say.” Michael nodded, helping her carry her bags. “Still horse crazy after those years of horseless Earth?”
“Thank goodness, he and Hrriss got back from that Hrrethan assignment,” Kelly said, ignoring her brother’s jibe. “Wouldn’t be a proper Hunt without them leading it.”
As soon as she had showered in unlimited hot water and dressed in comfortable well-worn clothes, Kelly raced out to saddle her bay mare, Calypso. The mare gladly accepted the present of a couple of carrots and nuzzled her mistress’s hand. Kelly just hoped that she hadn’t forgotten too much in her years away. But Calypso would take care of her: she usually did. And there was just time left to get down to the Assembly Hall.
Vaulting into the saddle, Kelly kneed Calypso forward, toward the fields leading to the village common. After living on Earth for a time, it was hard to readjust to so few people per square kilometer. By law, there could be only as many Humans as Hrrubans. After the Decision came into effect, more Humans had had to be imported to equal Hrrubans, and four more villages’ worth of Terran colonists—out of the millions applying—had come to Doona/Rrala. Even so, the combined population made little impression on a planet whose diameter was three thousand kilometers greater than that of Earth.
Crisis On Doona Page 3