The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books

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The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books Page 150

by John Thornton


  “Thanks!” Borko whooped the loudest, but his brothers’ voices were not much less in decibels.

  Alisa looked them over. “So we eat our supper, and then I will begin reading this book. I wonder what it is about? I think it is very old, from well before all the Earth was ruined in that huge global conflict. A wonderful find, boys. Just wonderful. You are absolutely right; Jerome will really want to see this.”

  “Look at that animal!” Borko pointed to the over. “It is sort of like a leopard, but without the spots.”

  “It is not black like some leopards, either,” Dmitar added. “It has more muscles too.”

  “You have not seen any more leopards that I have,” Jadran said as he too looked at the brownish yellow cat on the cover. “So what is that?”

  “Well boys, we better eat and then we can read and find out what that animal is. It is something like the smaller cats,” she almost said ‘back home’ but resisted at the last moment. She grieved over the loss of Beta and did not want her boys to see her cry. She went on, “Like those cats, but different.” Alisa was already rushing to get the food where the boys could consume it. She was as interested as they were in the fascinating book.

  The boys hurried to set the meal out and then as the boys ate, their mother began reading aloud.

  The next morning, all three boys were tired, from the late night of finishing the novel, but also excited to be on their way. Alisa accompanied them to where she knew the trade party was assembling.

  “May my boys accompany you?” Alisa asked. “They are hard workers, and will not cause any troubles.”

  Neither Dick nor Fedders was there to lead the delegation, but those in charge had no objection. The leaders for this trade party were a middle-aged couple, Rodney and Obioma. Neither said much, but just nodded at Alisa and set the boys to work. The trading party had the boys each carry a backpack filled with dried chicken meat, or feathers, or some mysterious small packages tightly wrapped up in leather. The eggs they did not allow the boys to carry, and instead toted them along in special containers carried by adults.

  The two hunter, Kristijan and Dusan, welcomed the boys and assured Alisa that they would watch them all the way there and back.

  “I have been to the Trading Place several times,” Dusan stated. “It is an easy trip, even in this never-ending dim light. Boredom will probably be the worst problem we encounter.” He slapped the heavy padding on his own pants. “Unless some chickens rush us and attack.”

  Rodney and Obioma gave him puzzled looks. Obioma then simply said, “Chickens are just, as chickens are.”

  The boys looked like they were about to begin the endless argument about chickens yet again, but Alisa intervened. “Now you three remember to listen to the adults here. No escapades off on your own. Promise me.”

  “We promise,” the triplets replied.

  After all the gear and trading supplies were packed up, the small band of travelers departed. Alisa went off to her work.

  The dimly lit corridors, with their walls having slowly dripping water coming down from what had been ventilation ducts, led to what the Chicken People called a ‘main road’. That too was a phrase which did not make sense to the boys. The triplets thought of as a road as something like the broad road which had run all around the sea in Beta and had even crisscrossed the entire biological habitat. Here, on the needle ship, the main road was just an oversized corridor. The boys recalled how the horses had stately walked along that corridor when they were moved to be with the Fruit People. The main road did have one advantage, the growth medium in many places was worn down by foot-traffic to the point where the bare decks were visible.

  The journey was uneventful, and even though the boys looked for things to make it exciting, they only saw a few rats scurry away to hide, and just one single cavy which was so far down a dim side hall that there was no chance to hunt it.

  “And here is the Trading Place,” Dusan said after many hours of steady walking.

  The Chicken People, who were carrying their loads, nodded as if looking at a small child who is expressing simple explanations. The former Beta hunters and the three boys ignored those glances and studied where they had arrived.

  The Trading Place was a large open area with a high ceiling. It was not as big as the boys imagined the Fruit People’s orchards to be, but was large compared to most of the places on the needle ship. Still, in the boys’ minds, the Trading Place was small. They remembered vividly the vast sea, rivers, and hills in Beta. There, where the triplets had grown up, the sky tube was so far overhead that it looked to be millions of meters away, and the far end of the habitat was not visible at all. That was especially true on rain day when it showered down water all day long. But here, in the Trading Place, the ceiling was a mere twenty or thirty meters above, and the dim light filtered down on everything. Tables, booths, and a moderate number of people were in that Trading Place.

  The triplets unloaded their backpacks, and checking with the Chicken People, Rodney and Obioma, they received some more instructions.

  “Remember how to trade,” Obioma said. “Never be rude and butt in. Always begin with a greeting like, ‘Man from the Goat People, may we speak to you?”

  “What if they are not from the Goat People?” Dmitar asked sarcastically. Obioma was not amused.

  “You know what I mean,” Obioma responded. Her eyes were narrowed. “But try it whatever way you want. Life will teach you the lessons you need to learn. Why listen to me?” She turned away.

  The triplets then wandered around looking at everything.

  “What are those people doing?” Jadran asked as he pointed to old murals painted on the walls. Those murals showed people in various states of activity; running, leaping, dancing, and children playing. Many of the people in the images were holding balls of some kind, or balls were depicted flying between the smiling people.

  “Looks like some kind of games,” Borko said. “Maybe?”

  “They must have been happy once,” Dmitar added. “But that was way long ago. Must have been before the crushers came.”

  “Mom said there are no crushers here, but too many places look wrecked around here,” Jadran said as he turned around to look at all the murals. “This place is not stomped down like that Special Care Unit place, but lots of ruined things. Those painting are all flaking off and water has rubbed out some of them.”

  “I have the book,” Borko reminded them. “Look for ‘Uncle’ Khin or listen for his laugh. When we find him we can ask for the trade.”

  They passed where the Fruit People, who almost always wore hats, were sitting at their tables with baskets of fruit, fruit bars, and dried fruits. The boys were tempted, but remembered their goal and kept looking for their adopted uncle.

  The Trading Place had numerous entrances, and a steady stream of people walked between the booths, tables, and benches. The flow of traffic came in and went out, and it was the most people then boys had seen since the great feast some weeks before. On the opposite side of the arena, there was a stand with the Goat People’s products. The people sitting at the chairs there were dressed like what Khin wore, but none were Khin or his wife Vesna. The boys knew Vesna even better than Khin, as she was from their same village along the sea coast. Her serious and steadfast personality put the boys off a bit from seeking her as a trade partner. She also did not know Jerome like ‘Uncle’ Khin did. Among the Goat People were some who held rope leashes on which live goats were tied. Others had various kinds of leather displayed for trade. One table was covered with a wide variety of cheeses.

  “Well hello!” a woman’s cheerful voice cut through the overall hubbub of the myriad of conversations.

  “Monika!” The boys cried out and rushed toward her.

  Monika’s face was happy. Her pretty, brown hair was neat, and tied back in a simple braid. Her complexion pale, lighter than many of the others in the room. She wore the brown clothing of the roustabouts. Her shirt was billowy, and her pants were
loose and baggy. She had also added other articles to her ensemble, a necklace of some kind of white beads, and several bracelets of gold.

  “What brings you three here?” Monika asked as she hugged each of the boys and got an affectionate squeeze in return. “How are you doing? Have you adjusted to life on the needle ship? How is your mother?”

  The boys all spoke at once. They were very happy to see someone from Beta, and the chattered on and babbled so fast Monika could only partially follow what they were saying.

  “Boys!” Monika interjected. “One at a time. Now you Borko, you look like you are about to burst open with information. What are you here about?”

  Again all three boys sputtered and spoke and tried to make known what they wanted. Borko tried to pull out the book, but he hesitated as he was unsure if he wanted all the people around to see the treasure he had.

  Monika raised her voice. “I will go first then. Now listen to me! I came here bringing supplies to Siva, Peter, and Bigelow. They are working on the new carousel. It is coming along nicely. I brought them many machine parts, and some blocks of wood which were fabricated for them. They are carving the new carousel animals. Have you come to ride the carousel? It is not ready yet, and will not be for a few more weeks. I might be able to arrange for you to come and see the building site.”

  The boys began to speak all at once yet again. This time, Monika placed a hand quickly over the nearest two boys’ mouths. She stated with good-natured authority, “Now, if I only had a third hand. So you Jadran, you tell me why you are here.”

  Jadran, whose mouth was not covered over, replied. “We want to trade something for real bows and arrows for hunting. We thought maybe Jerome would be willing to get those made for us.”

  At the name Jerome, Monika’s face split into a very side grin and her eyes looked up and away for a moment. She said, “Well, I am heading back to speak to Jerome soon. I have something very important to tell him. Exciting news really. I have already finished the deliveries to the carousel builders. Clearly, you do not want to hear about that, because you have something even more important. So, what do you have that Jerome would want?”

  Jadran looked at Borko who slipped and twisted away from Monika’s loose grasp. She then released Dmitar as well.

  “Can we go somewhere less busy, so I can show you?” Borko asked.

  “Of course,” Monika replied. “This must be quite an item. Did you make it yourselves? Is it from some chickens, or should we call those big birds something else?” She winked at the boys and then led them out one of the side entrances to a corridor where few people were walking.

  “They are not regular chickens,” Dmitar interjected.

  “And this is not from any kinds of birds!” Jadran added.

  As they stopped in the corridor, Borko pulled out the book. Even in the dim light, Monika instantly recognized what it was. “You found him a book? A real, paper-bound book?” Her greenish hazel colored eyes grew wide, and her pupils expanded. She knew Jerome loved old books.

  “I found it!” Borko said triumphantly.

  “We helped you,” Dmitar explained. “We all found an apartment door which no one had opened in like forever, so we jimmied the system and crosscut the power link. Then the door opened.”

  “But not until after we severed that weld,” Jadran added. “Someone had welded the door from the inside, so I used a vibration saw to slice into that. Then we could get the jack into that section to prize the panel open enough to insert the spanner.”

  “But I climbed the shelves and found that book!” Borko said. “Now, is it worth three bows and three dozen arrows?”

  Monika looked at the book. The cover art showed the big cat standing sideways, with a large mountain range behind it. Monika knew it was an image from Old Earth, as nothing in Beta was as big as those mountains. Her heart also soared as she considered how excited Jerome would be to see a paper-bound book. She too thought of the leopards of Beta, but recognized that the animal on the cover was something different. In many ways it reminded her animals they had carved on the carousel as statues. “This beast is not a tiger, they have stripes. Not a leopard, but you boys already know that. It might be a lion, a female one, as the males have a large and shaggy mane around their heads. But, I think it was called a puma. Sort of a cousin to the leopards of Beta. What is the book about?”

  “It is about that animal, that one on the cover, and the conflict in his life. There is this hunter guy named, Cougar George,” Borko began to explain. “They try to get Yellow Eyes and his mate, The Golden One

  “And Treon,” Jadran added. “He is more like us. He is an excellent hunter who knows the biome, although the book calls it something else. Some of the words are odd. Cougar George was a different kind of person. So it, well, it is….”

  “But it is not real. There was no sky tube, but some kind of weird glowing ball thing in the sky. It rises and sets, and some other silvery thing comes out at night, sometimes.” Dmitar looked puzzled. He then explained, “and more kinds of animals that I have never heard about, but the book is so exciting!”

  Monika held the book close to her. “You say you want three bows and thirty-six arrows for this book?” She was having trouble containing her own excitement.

  “For hunting cavies. Is this book worth that much? Do you think Jerome would order those things made for us?” Borko asked. “We were going to ask ‘Uncle’ Khin, but you know Jerome too! And you are from Beta! Mom says we cannot go all the way to see him ourselves. Are we asking too much?”

  Monika tried hard to put a serious look on her face. “Boys, I will personally guarantee that you get three bows and thirty-six arrows in trade for this book. I will order them myself if I have to. In fact, I will personally make them if I have to. This is a perfect gift. Will you trust me to deliver it to Jerome?”

  “Yes!” The boys all replied.

  “Jerome is your suitor, your betrothed, anyway. So of course you will see him soon,” Dmitar stated. “That is part of the omiai.”

  Monika blushed, but then changed the subject. “I promise you will get the bows and arrows, but I am not sure when they will be ready. If I have to make them by hand, it will take a bit longer. If I order them made at Alpha’s Reproduction and Fabrication, it might be sooner. The carousel parts have been coming rather quickly.”

  The frown on the boys faces showed they had not expected a delay in getting their prizes. Monika realized that the children had not completely thought about the details trade, and how it would all work out. So she added, “I tell you what. How about I include three excellent spears as well, just because you have to wait?”

  Borko looked at his brothers. Then they all agreed.

  “I will get word to you when they are ready, and I might bring them to the Chicken People myself.” Monika hugged the boys. “Now can I get you some good foods before I head back? My treat.”

  They walked back into the Trading Place and picked up some trays from a serving table. Then the triplets and Monika shared a meal together. They combined chicken, sautéed mushrooms, fresh fruits, and cheeses, all picked up at various booths or tables. Monika traded for the foods and glasses of juice with items she had in her pockets. They sat together at an empty table and ate. After finishing, Monika was preparing to leave and had the book all packed up, when the boys again began asking her questions.

  “Has Jerome read this book? Now, be sure to tell Jerome it came from us,” Borko said. “I sure hope this book is new to him. He has read so much; I hate to think he knows this story already.”

  “Cammarry is the one who knows the stories,” Jadran interjected. “Jerome just recites the things he has read.”

  “Hey, what about Cammarry?” Dmitar asked. “She is like his sister, right? Will she feel left out that we did not give her something for trade?”

  Borko’s face fell. “I did not think of that. Have we offended her? Remember what they said about ritual trading? Have we messed up?”

 
; “I thought she was his cousin,” Jadran stated. “But when I have asked, no one knows. Someone called them age-mates, but is that like twins, triplets, or quads? Someone else said there were twenty-five of those age-mates, but that is impossible. Not even animals have twenty-five in a litter, right? Is she his sister or his cousin? Monika? You are betrothed to him in the omiai so you would know. Which is it? Do they have the same parents? Or are they cousins?”

  Monika’s face reddened again, and was unsure how to answer. “I am not sure about their parents. Neither of them has spoken to me of their mothers or fathers, so I cannot tell you.”

 

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