Crisis On Doona

by Anne McCaffrey

“Here! I need help here!” Anne Boncyk shouted from behind the grain barn. She galloped into sight, waving an empty crossbow. “There’s a mess of them sneaking around the barn!” Kelly swiveled her head. Two of the infiltrators were lying contentedly in the gravel, engulfing the bodies of their deceased comrades without a care for the crossbow quarrels sticking straight up, but half a dozen others were making straight for the farrowing pens.

  With a sharp command, Hrriss sent his ocelots to Anne’s rescue. Gathering their haunches, the spotted cats pounced onto the back of the two largest reptiles, four meters long, and dragged them thrashing like severed air hoses out of the pens. With a quick bite behind the flat heads, the cats dispatched their prey and went for two more. The respite gave Anne time to reload both her crossbows.

  A young reptile, only about three meters long, whipped between the team’s horses. Three spears jabbed for it all at once, but all missed their mark.

  “Damn!” groaned Don, and shouted over his shoulder, “Anne, a three-meter coming through!”

  “No, I’ll take it!” Jilamey said. “I gotta get two.” He wheeled his horse about and pursued the young snake.

  Rolling his eyes at such bravado, Todd gestured for Kelly to follow Landreau. If the boy had been sent to embarrass Doona by getting killed in the Snake Hunt, Todd was determined the plan would fail. Jilamey had managed the first catch, somehow, but anything could happen here, with snakes all too close to valuable stock.

  At first, the snake was too intent on catching its meal to realize it was being pursued. Jilamey drew his miniature gun and shot at its back. He hit it square, but the low-caliber slug just bounced off the scaly hide. But the snake felt the impact and turned to see what had hit it. Seeing Jilamey bearing down, it slowed a trifle.

  Encouraged, Jilamey galloped at it, trusty quarterstaff poised above his head. “Yeee-hah!” he yelled, bringing the long stick down on the snake. It was a good, solid hit. The snake stopped dead and compressed itself into a hurt knot. Jilamey had learned a lesson during his previous misadventure. Before the snake could get a coil about the staff, he discarded it and reached for the crossbow.

  He never got a chance to use it. The snake sprang around the horse’s leg, lashing out with its tail to encircle a hind leg and bring the animal, and rider, down. The horse, instinctively lashing out behind, then reared and stumbled, falling across a young Mommy Snake which had broken through the cordon. The Mommy was stunned and the tiddler got mashed. Todd and Gypsy came round the corner, chasing the Mommy, Todd with his crossbow cocked. If Jilamey fell now, the Mommy would take him in one gulp.

  But Jilamey’s mount was an old campaigner, and once he felt his legs free, he danced backward as fast as he was able until he was stopped by the rails of the sty, where once again he reared, striking out with his front legs. The Mommy reared up, too, just as Jilamey, roaring commands at the rearing horse, slid off its rump, over the rails and straight into the sty, landing with a splat on his back in the muck.

  “Augh!” the youth cried, flailing his arms and legs. “Help me! I can’t get up!”

  Jilamey couldn’t see the danger he was still in, with the tiddler rousing from its mauling, and the Mommy equally interested in this convenient quarry. Todd shot a defensive charge under the Mommy’s tail: pain and noise alarmed it enough to divert its path so that it swerved into the tiddler. A second explosive burst in front of them, and both shot away, Todd in pursuit.

  Trying very hard not to laugh, Kelly swung off Calypso and, keeping a good hold on the reins, reached through the fence rails into the pen. It took an effort, but she got the young man to his unsteady feet and guided him back onto solid ground.

  “You’re out of the race, Master Landreau,” Kelly said, trying not to take a deep breath. The sour miasma of pig excrement made her gag. Calypso kept backing away from the stench, pulling Kelly’s arm nearly out of the socket. “Unless you can clean up real quick someplace.”

  As Jilamey, disgust and horror contorting his features, tried to scrape muck off his body, Kelly managed to catch his horse and then had trouble getting the horse to approach its erstwhile rider.

  “My snake? My second snake? What happened to it?” And to Kelly’s surprise, he started to run back to the place of his near demise, darting about, looking for the reptile.

  “That one’s long gone, Jilamey.”

  “But what’ll I do?” Jilamey looked so pathetic that Kelly nearly laughed aloud.

  “What we do is get you to the nearest blind and check you for cuts. You don’t want muck-infected wounds, I assure you.”

  “But I’ve got to get the second one,” Jilamey insisted.

  “Like that?”

  He tried to approach his horse, who kept backing away snorting.

  “It’s not far to the nearest blind, Jilamey. We’ll clean you up and maybe then the horse’ll let you on him.”

  “But they’re all going that way!” he said, dazedly looking back at the melee in the Boncyk yard. More riders were reinforcing Team One by that time, and the pigsties were well cordoned off from the snakes. “I must have my second snake.”

  “You’re lucky you got one!” she said, beginning to lose patience. “And we’ve got to clean you up. Then at least you can ride back to town.”

  The prospect of walking that far clearly won his attention. So, while Kelly on Calypso led his horse, they made their way to the nearest snake blind, which was not far away, but back in the woods away from the Boncyk farmyard. As she led him, she hoped that his stench would not entice a tiddler or Mommy to investigate his delightfulness. On the way, they met the backup riders who were going out to help Todd.

  “He took a fall,” Kelly said, over and over again, as her friends threw her puzzled glances. “Good hunting! Good hunting!” Wish I could finish it with you, she thought. Nerd-sitting is such a nuisance. Having to sit a Landreau was close to insult in her lexicon.

  Once the four spectators inside the tiny building got a whiff of Jilamey, there was no way he would be given room. Not even the heavily scented hunting box could overcome the odor clinging to the young man. There was, however, a barrel of rainwater just outside and it was the will of the many that Jilamey might have use of all of it. As there was no window on that side of the blind, he went outside and stripped off his sodden clothing. When he was safely inside the barrel, Kelly took a shovel and scooped up the stinking remains of the once sporty outfit. She left the knee boots because her brother knew how to neutralize the odor on leather. Spare clothes were donated and a sort of a towel, and pretty soon, Jilamey, smelling considerably more like a Human, was allowed back into the blind.

  Then Kelly could check for wounds. Once the muck had been scraped off, she found several. Nothing major, but scrapes, one shallow cut, and many bruises, the worst of which blossomed on his left cheek and ear. If it hadn’t been for the regulation helmet, he might have crushed his skull on the fence post.

  “I have never had anything like that happen to me in my life,” Jilamey said, over and over, as she dabbed at his injuries with disinfectant and rubbed a styptic to stop the bleeding. “I thought that snake was going to eat me!”

  “You were a very handy morsel,” Kelly replied, carefully smearing vrrela from her medical kit on the scrapes. She reached for one of the flasks at her belt. “But Todd doesn’t allow snakes to feed on his team members. Have a drink of this.”

  Jilamey uncorked the mlada and took a tentative sip. He followed that taste with a more enthusiastic tot and sighed happily as the warmth of the liquor hit.

  “Not too much,” Kelly warned him, taking the flask away and recorking it. “It’s strong.”

  “Strong is what I need right now,” he pleaded. “One more?”

  “Well ...” Kelly studied him and decided what he’d been through was worth one more drink. His bruises would probably hurt more as they developed.

  “A
ll right,” she said, pouring him another.

  “Todd saved my life,” Jilamey remarked thoughtfully. He sat up on the edge of that remark and winced, settling back again in the low chair. “My uncle, the Admiral, has always held a poor opinion of the Reeve family, though he never says why. Even when I asked him after I knew I was going on this Hunt. I shall tell him how wrong he is. If he had seen Todd today, he’d be ever, ever so impressed.”

  “Todd was only doing his duty as team leader,” Kelly said carefully. She was amused as Jilamey had regained his affected manner of speech as soon as he was comfortable again. “But he is quite an impressive person.”

  “I agree!” Jilamey said, both hands clutching the small hammered metal cup. “It was most daring of him to sweep down like that, right in the face of the G—what did you call it?”

  Kelly smiled to herself. Undoubtedly he would regale his friends endlessly about his Snake Hunt. He might even tell the truth. It certainly wouldn’t hurt Todd’s reputation to have the story go around. “GBMS. It stands for Great Big Mommy Snake. Nearly all of the big ones that come out for spawning are the females.”

  “And he drove them both off just before they could reach me. He saved my life. I admire him ever so. I know better than to believe everything my uncle has been saying about his family. He’s wrong when he says that Reeve is out of his element here, and should be returned home for his own good. If the father is at all like the son, well, I’ve never seen anyone better suited to a wild venue.” The young man chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Certainly I’m not. I know I’ll only play at it the odd weekend or two.” He raised his eyebrows entreatingly and extended the cup toward Kelly. She had been listening intently ever since Jilamey had mentioned his uncle.

  “Oh, well, one more won’t hurt you,” she said, pretending reluctance, but eager to hear more. She poured the cup full. “It’s all organic, you know.” Any gossip about the great Landreau interested all Doonans personally. Having just returned from Earth, she was more aware than most of the tensions surrounding the upcoming Treaty Renewal, and the disagreement between the factions pro and con. “So what did your uncle think of you coming here for the Snake Hunt, Jilamey?”

  THE WRITHING, squirming cargo was hauled back triumphantly to the center of the Human settlement. Hunters who had successfully passed their rite of passage with the capture of two snakes were congratulated and toasted with splashes of mlada, some of them directed internally. With understandable satisfaction, Todd saw the two Hrrubans who had endangered Hrriss ride back into the square, hunched over their saddlebows in pain. They had the telltale swellings of rroamal inflammation under the fur on their arms and legs. At some point on their wild ride they had passed through trees bearing the toxic vines. Because the inflammation wasn’t far advanced, a quick application of vrrela would swiftly cure the agony, but Todd couldn’t help but think of their suffering as a measure of justice.

  The heavenly smell of cooking greeted them all. Meat was turning on spits in roasting pits, which were also filled with freshly picked corn on the cob and newly dug potatoes. The combined aromas made the returning Hunters half frantic with hunger.

  “Not a bite until you clean up!” Pat Reeve shouted at her dust-covered son. Todd grinned and pointed to the carcasses of the small snakes thrown across the rump of his horse. She returned the grin and held up her joined hands over her head as a gesture of victory. The snakes’ meat would be thrown into a savory stew to simmer with root vegetables and fresh herbs. Some of the traditions of Snake Hunt were a lot more delicious than others.

  “Where’s Mrrva?” Todd called back over the clamor. “Hrriss got his leg squeezed by a Mommy Snake.”

  Pat’s eyes widened in concern. “She’s inside,” she said, gathering up the small carcasses and hurrying toward the door. “I’ll warn her. You get him inside.”

  Hrriss protested that he was all right. “I have been pressed worse between my hrrss’s body and the stable wall,” he pleaded.

  “Come on.” Todd ignored his friend’s protests, knowing that the leg had to hurt a lot more than Hrriss was letting on. He helped Hrriss off Rrhee and shepherded him toward the Hall. “If your mother doesn’t kill me for neglecting you, mine will.”

  Once Hrriss was in the capable hands of his mother, Mrrva, Todd checked on the other members of his team.

  The hunting parties, still congratulating each other, finally separated to wash and dress for the upcoming celebratory banquet. Medics took charge of the injured. There were numerous wounds and bruises due to inexperience with the vegetation of Doona/Rrala and a long horseback ride.

  Nonparticipants clamored for firsthand stories and adventures from the heroes, and sympathized with the disappointed Hunters who had returned empty-handed. Todd congratulated several young friends who had passed their ritual, and checked on the various small wounds that some of his team members and friends had sustained. There had been no deaths in any team during this Hunt. The unusually hot weather had somewhat slowed the snakes’ usual split-second reflexes. Todd felt they’d been extraordinarily lucky, considering how many amateurs had ridden out. He walked Gypsy and Rrhee down to the paddock to unsaddle and turn them loose, enjoying the post-Hunt atmosphere, listening to everyone comparing brags about the size of the ones that got away. Soon, he was able to work his way to his own quarters and the long-awaited and much-needed shower.

  There were preparations for the usual all-out blast of a party going on in the Assembly Hall. It was the biggest building on Doona/Rrala, bar the Archives Building on the Treaty Island. It lay on the Human side of the Friendship bridge halfway between the new construction which replaced the first Human village and the first Hrruban village. It took the place of the much smaller mess hall, which had been the chief building of the original settlement. The support beams and wide windows of the Hall were of extruded plastic, but the white walls and roof were formed of the same sealed-rla wood as the bridge. The many ornaments and statuary on and within its walls had been donated by craftspeople from both races and every village on the planet. It was surrounded by gravel walks and pathways that rambled in a pleasing knotlike pattern among gardens containing rare plants from Earth and Hrruba, proudly maintained by volunteer gardeners. During other times of the year than Snake Hunt, the entire sentient population of the planet could fit within the walls of the Assembly Hall or in its landscaped grounds, for speeches or celebrations. The Hall doubled as the social center whenever visitors came.

  The five days following each Snake Hunt were designated by Doonans as New Home Week, recreating an Earth custom of reunion, but as Dot McKee, one of the senior settlers, pointed out, for their new home, instead of their old one. If at all possible, everyone returned home for New Home Week. Unless they were on exploration missions, no great effort was required of the Hrruban settlers, for every Hrruban had access to transportation grids. But the Human Rralans had to make sacrifices of time, effort, and money. Either way, both species came home some way or other. So Kelly hoped to see several of her primary-school chums back from long-term exploration missions for Spacedep and the colonizing arm of the Hrruban government. She hoped that Todd’s brother, Dan, would be among them. Right now, she had to find Todd and report what Jilamey had said.

  The Doona/Rrala Ad Hoc Band was tuning up in a corner of the Assembly Hall when Kelly entered. She smiled at Mrs. Lawrence, the leader of the band, and then began to circulate. The Hall had been beautifully decorated for the feast. Floating wicks burned in glass sconces containing scented oil. The sconces hung on the walls between bright festival decorations. Long tables draped with white embroidered cloths had been set up perpendicular to the head table on its dais. Kelly wandered about, searching for Todd and Hrriss, and finally saw them sitting together at the opposite end of the Hall. Hrriss glanced up and caught her eye to wave her over.

  “Who’d ever guess you’ve been chasing snakes! Give us a twirl!” Todd said. “Very pret
ty!” he added approvingly, as she executed a neat turn on her heel to show off her dress.

  She’d brought it specially for tonight, a confection of shimmering blue and gold with a fluffy knee-length skirt. “Glad you approve, citizen,” Kelly replied pertly, ducking into a graceful curtsy. “I’ll have you know that this is the very latest style from Earth in evening informal—to distinguish from casual, which this most definitely is not. Notice please the wide skirt, to show an insouciant disregard for the tightness of Corridors and Aisles. The very height of fashion, or should I say width? Can I sit down or is there something else I’m supposed to do right now?”

  Todd gave a snort. “We do the Hunt. Others do the food,” he said. “Mother, Mrrva, and Mrs. Hu have that in hand.” He reached out and, grabbing her hand, neatly pulled her onto the bench beside them.

  “Hrriss, is your leg all right?” Kelly asked, wondering if that was why the pair were so indolent in the busy Hall. She saw no bandage, though she caught the astringent odor of vrrela.

  “Oh, zat!” Hrriss dismissed it with a negligent click of lightly extended claws. “It was nozzing, as I told Zodd. I am only bruised. We are sorry to have missed you on the rest of the ride,” he added regretfully.

  “Me, too,” Kelly sighed. Despite the rain barrel, Jilamey had exuded a pong that she was afraid might cling to her and spoil this evening. “I dropped my nerd off at the medical center for a full checkover, and took a double-long shower to get the pig smell off. Did I miss anything good?”

  “You left just before the best part,” Todd said, grinning broadly at the memory. “We were afraid that once the mass of snakes caught up to us, they’d make short work of all Wayne’s stock, but we didn’t count on the sows. When the tiddlers started coming through the slats into their pens, they turned as aggressive as you could have wished. Wayne was delighted.”

  “Really?” Kelly wondered if Todd was teasing her, but a quick look at Hrriss confirmed that this master dissembler was telling the truth.