FRENCHY II : Having a Blast

by George Olney

  When Dallas got out of the shower, she found Frenchy still sitting in her chair, simply sipping her water and enjoying a mellow endorphin high. Dallas wrapped her towel around her hair and flopped in the other chair, stretching crossed legs out in front of her. "Okay, babe, fill me in. What about the war? And what about Grae and archeology?"

  "Well," Frenchy said, "first thing you have to understand is that the Tribes aren't really a bunch of Old West Indians, they just like to act that way. You know that five foot long sword hanging on the wardroom wall?"

  Dallas nodded.

  "That's for real. Grae actually uses the thing. I've seen him kill a man and a bunch of monsters with it."

  Dallas shuddered. "You're pretty matter of fact about it."

  "The man was a slaver and the monsters were planning to eat me. I told you I've had to kill with my ax. Swords just like Grae's are what every adult male in the Tribes use by preference. That spring rifle of Justa's is considered a woman's weapon. The guys prefer to be up close and personal," Frenchy explained dryly.

  "On the other hand," she continued, "the Tribes are fully up to speed with the rest of Galactic civilization. Justa really is an anthropologist. Grae has an archeology degree, but he's never worked in it. The Yellow Knife Tribe that Grae and I belong to builds robotics. Other tribes specialize in other things, and their economy is really pretty complex. The whole bunch just prefers to be about as wild as they can get."

  Dallas smiled. "Sounds like one of those barbarian movies back home."

  Frenchy nodded. "That's about what I thought, except these guys are for real. Keep that in mind when we get there.

  "Anyhow, you asked about the War. It really was an interstellar war against a bunch of aliens. There are other aliens in Galactic civilization, but they don't mix much with humans. I've only met one, and seen a few more. From everything I've found out, though, the aliens the Federation was fighting were bad news with bells on. Grae was what we'd call Special Forces in the war, but with some big differences. One of them is that he's been biologically augmented to the point where he's about two hundred percent better than normal and they tell me he was pretty damn good to begin with! I met a guy that served with him during the War and got a chance to see both of them in action. Babe, it was awesome! If we run into any trouble after we planet, make sure he's close by."

  "Hm." Dallas took on a speculative look. "Like I once asked, any more where he came from?"

  Frenchy giggled. "And like I told you when you asked, a whole world of 'em. Planning on going hunting?"

  Dallas took on a dreamy look. "Oh my, yes."

  Frenchy giggled again, eyeing her friend's nude figure. "Well, looks like you've got the right bait. After we get home, we'll get Grete to help us pick you out a nice one."

  "However," Dallas said sternly, "Frenchy, you are not to get pregnant until I do. That is something we are going to do together."

  Frenchy grinned and nodded. "Right. Think we ought to tell Grae and whatever poor sap you pick out first? Or just let them discover it later."

  "Naah," Dallas said. "The guys would only worry if we told them too soon. They'll figure it out for themselves about the time we're six months along."

  Both women laughed uproariously as they slapped hands in a high five.

  A few moments later, Dallas broke the companionable silence. "You know, babe, something just struck me."

  "What?"

  "Well," Dallas continued, "I got that whiz-bang treatment to learn Rembaud before we met out here. Am I going to have to learn another language once we get there? What language do they speak on Lycanth?"

  Frenchy got thoughtful for a moment. "You know, babe, that's a good point. To answer your questions, you're good with Rembaud. Everyone I've met out here speaks Rembaud and, now that you mention it, I've kind of forgotten that there are other languages."

  Another thoughtful expression. "Grae's tied up with Nos, but I know someone else that can explain. It's her specialty, too."

  Frenchy addressed the ship. "Irine, if Justa's awake, ask her to join me in our stateroom."

  A few moments later, the stateroom door slid open to reveal Justa - a Justa that immediately assumed a very apprehensive expression when she saw Frenchy and Dallas were currently as bare as new born babes.

  "Relax, Justa," Frenchy said as she waved the girl into the stateroom, "no gags this time. We just need you to clear up something in what I guess is your specialty."

  "Oh." Justa's expression was relieved as she walked in and gingerly sat on the bed. Seeing the girl's relief and tentative movements, Frenchy and Dallas swapped knowing smiles. "What's the problem?" Justa asked.

  "No problem," Frenchy answered. "Dallas asked me if she was going to need another language on Lycanth and I realized I've never heard anyone speaking anything other than Rembaud. How come?"

  Justa started to assume a superior expression then stopped as it hit her she'd promised to be good. She ought to, she thought. She was grateful for Frenchy's sympathetic talk the other night. Besides, even she was starting to like herself better this way. "Actually, Frenchy," she began, "it's a common pattern in human history.

  "Rembaud was originally a constructed language for communication between cultures. Then it grew into general use. Finally, people used it so much that it began to suppress local languages. It was just so much easier to stay in one language that people used Rembaud even in their homes. Except in certain places, like Watanaoea, Rembaud's about all anyone speaks anymore. In fact, the reason I was on that planet was that the local culture is far less integrated into Galactic civilization than most."

  Dallas was interested and she wanted to know more about her new home. "Okay, I guess I can see that. Did the Tribes have their own language?"

  "Dialects," Justa answered. "Lycanth was a Lost World for a while, like yours. Every tribe developed their own dialect of our general language before Lycanth rejoined Galactic civilization a thousand or so years ago. Rembaud just made communication so much easier that the original tribal dialects and the language are pretty much dead. We didn't change our culture, just what we spoke."

  Frenchy nodded at the explanation. She'd noticed funny words that occasionally showed up in everyday speech on Lycanth, but ignored them since the meaning was easy to get from context. Now she knew why. Those were just old words for something that was specific to Lycanth. Made sense, the way Justa explained it. "I guess that's what happened in the rest of Galactic civilization, wasn't it?"

  Justa nodded, then began to elaborate, with comments or questions interspersed by Dallas and Frenchy. The three were still deep in the subject of Galactic civilization when Grae eventually came to report he was finished with Nos, so Mommy and Aunt Dallas had better get dressed.

  #####

  Red, in person, was exactly the same as Red on the com holo, complete with hair, hat, belly and clothes. He did wear boots, too. On being escorted to the wardroom by Grae, he grandly swept off his hat and bowed. "Ladies," he said, "I am truly pleased to make your acquaintance."

  Introductions were duly made, to a variety of reactions.

  As Frenchy and Dallas dimpled at him, he remarked to Grae with a smile, "I envy you your traveling companions."

  Justa, for her part, was unimpressed. She started to give a dismissive sniff then thought better of it. The New Justa was supposed to be easier to get along with and not so superior with everyone. She decided to be good, so awarded Red a Grade B smile.

  Nos was happily excited. Red was as exotic a human as he'd ever seen. On the whole, on adding Red to the collection of people already on board, he was surrounded by a boy's dreams. There was a brave and adventuresome Dad, a beautiful and loving Mama, a more-or-less tolerable Big Sister and a really Beautiful And Sexy Aunt. Add in someone that looked he'd make a great Companion In Adventure. It just didn't get any better than this!

  Dinner was okay, even though it took a bit of doing to shoehorn six people into the ship's little galley. Nos was even happier, si
nce he was allowed to sit with the adults, instead of Special Facilities for the Young Master, A.K.A. the kid's table.

  There was almost a crisis after dinner, since Frenchy decreed bedtime for Nos, but Red gallantly stepped into the breach. "Tell, you what," he said, eyeing the massive disappointment on the boy's face, "why don't Nos and I go back and get him ready for bed together. I think us guys have a few things to discuss, don't we Nos?"

  "Yes, we sure do!" he said excitedly, then looked at Frenchy. "Is it okay, Lady?"

  Frenchy nodded pleasantly to the boy, who immediately turned to Red and began chattering. He had about eight million questions to ask Red, and wanted to make sure he got them all in.

  Frenchy smiled as Red and Nos, deep in conversation, went back to Nos's bunk in the med compartment. By that simple act of courtesy to the boy, Red had elevated himself to the status of Good People in Frenchy's estimation. Red wasn't putting on an act, either. Her psi sense was getting good vibes about him. Yelen liked him, too.

  When Red came back to the wardroom, his first words were, "Inquisitive young gentleman. I think I've told my life story twice over."

  His next words came after he sat down and Dallas handed him an alcoholic drink, of which he proceeded to take a sip. "Ahhhh. Nectar of the gods."

  Although Frenchy's own drink was her preferred tonic water with a twist of citrus, she could sympathize with the sentiment. "If Nos got your life story," Frenchy commented, "that puts him one up on us. How about telling us more about why you're headed for Lycanth. I can't speak for everyone, but that little bit we got over dinner just whetted my appetite."

  Red nodded acknowledgment then placed a finger alongside his nose and gazed reflectively at his boots. He began with the sure tones of a master storyteller. "Wel-l-l, we all know there were plenty of pre-human civilizations, some that were interstellar. For a long time, I've had the idea there was a granddaddy culture out there, one that was older and farther spread than any we've found yet. My best guess is that the reason we haven't found it yet was the fact that it was mostly out Beyond, well in advance of where we've gotten until the last seven or eight centuries. I decided the best place to look was planets that were settled relatively recently as current history goes. Lycanth fitted nicely into that category, with the added plus that most of the surface, although human settled, was still pretty much untouched."

  Grae and Justa were both paying close attention. This touched on their areas of expertise. "I've done some digging in the Barrens," Grae said, "and I found a few indications, but nothing I could categorize. What are you actually looking for?"

  Red sipped his drink and looked at him. "Good question. Let me tell you a little more about this civilization. I first ran across them in some old records by the Azmath."

  "They were a limited spacefaring culture about ten thousand or so years before us," Grae explained to Frenchy and Dallas.

  Red picked up the thread of his narrative. "The Azmath referred to a race called the Zandoc, as near as it can be pronounced in human terms, that was 'first among the stars'. Okay, there are plenty of other like records out there, but it's pretty well established the Azmath got started on the ruins of what we call the Poluthrefus group of cultures, which sends the time line back a good twenty or so thousand years further. That bunch, the Poluthrefus, referred to an elder race called the Saandok. I started looking, and found names that all tended to transliterate to the same syllabic combination in three or four other prehistoric cultures. In every case they were termed 'first ones' or 'those that came first' or something like it."

  "Hey," Justa interrupted, "on Sephus, some of the old religious texts talk about the Shandik as showing the first men the way to the stars."

  Grae commented, in an aside to Dallas and Frenchy, "Sephus is the original home of humanity. Some of those old texts are regarded as sixty or so thousand years old."

  "My God!" Dallas said. "Just how old is human civilization?"

  "We first went into space about fifty thousand years ago," Grae said, "but there have been four or five major Dark Age periods, depended on who does the counting. Our current civilization is about six thousand years old. Your world was settled before the second Dark Age, but it fell apart in a war before the colony could get really established. That's where the humans you call Cro-Magnon men came from."

  Dallas was aghast. "We're descended from an interstellar colony?"

  Grae nodded solemnly. "You and a large number of other mammalian types, too. A number of different imports, geno-configured for your world, were evidently brought with the early colonists. After the crash, the imports apparently went wild and interbred with native animals where possible. Your apes are a good example. A lot of your planet's DNA is a mixture of import and native."

  Listening to Grae, Red seemed surprised. "Dallas, where are you from?" he asked.

  "XB734," Grae supplied for her. "She and Frenchy are both from there."

  Red looked at the women with a great deal of interest. "I recall some papers on your world. It has aspects that are rather interesting."

  Justa jumped into the conversation. This sort of thing was her specialty and she wanted to be heard. "It's a typical Lost World. They seem to be making a fairly standard climb to interstellar contact, possibly in the next century."

  Red shook his head. "Read Jankovy. There are legends and ruins indicating contact may have taken place during the last Dark Age. If so, the question is with whom?"

  It wasn't long before a full scale academic argument broke out between Red and Justa, complete with cited names, theories, and papers then swiftly escalated past the point where Frenchy could track what was being said. Grae probably understood the discussion. Although he'd never worked as an archeologist, he liked to keep current. She, on the other hand, got lost at the proverbial left turn in Albuquerque. In addition, she was slightly miffed at hearing good old Earth discussed like some laboratory sample. Finally, she decided on a solution. Putting two fingers in her mouth, she whistled shrilly. When she had everybody's attention, she commanded, "Time out!"

  Justa looked slightly embarrassed. Red, on the other hand, looked at Frenchy with admiration. "Hey," he said, "could you teach me to do that?"

  "Let's get this conversation back on track," Frenchy said, with a Mommy-repressive look at the two offenders. "Red, I gather from what you are saying, you plan to do some kind of archeological dig in the Barrens."

  He nodded. "Yes. There are several sites I want to try out. Nothing extensive, just a test dig or two at each place. If I find Zandoc traces, I can be back with a full-scale team."

  "I'm sure you've been in some rough places before," Grae commented, "but Lycanth is a good bit more dangerous than the norm. There, the primary life forms will come hunting you with fell intent - and that includes some of the humans."

  Red grinned. "I'm not particularly worried. I really don't see a problem."

  "I do," Grae said flatly. "I grew up there, and I wouldn't try what you seem bound to try, not with your level of expertise. When we get to Lycanth, I'm going to arrange an escort for you from the Freehold." He waved down the beginnings of Red's protest. "You need tribal permission to dig on our land anyhow, and you're not getting it without some sort of escort. Don't worry, I'll make sure it's someone that will help you, not get in your way."

  After considerable argument, which Red seemed to enjoy, he graciously submitted to Grae's declaration. The rest of the visit went reasonably well, with what Frenchy found to be highly interesting conversation about the Galaxy's ancient past, punctuated by the periodic argument between Red and Justa.

  Later, lying in bed with Grae, Frenchy found herself in the not-unaccustomed situation of mulling over a variety of unanswered questions. The usual solution for this problem was a good, old fashioned question and answer session with the bum in her life. Ergo...

  "Grae-"

  "Oh, I know the man, now," he replied. "At least, I know his reputation. His full name is Philoarch Bobdino, S.M.S. That's Se
nior Master Scholar."

  Frenchy replied in a wry voice, "No wonder he wants to be known as Red. What's a Senior Master Scholar?"

  He rolled over on his side to face her and raised up on one elbow, head propped on his hand comfortably. He was used to the question and answer sessions Frenchy started. "An S.M.S. is our equivalent of your Ph.D. Now that I recognize him, I realize Red's one of the better known maverick archeologists in Galactic civilization. Some of his ideas are right on the edge, but he has a habit of being right, much to the irritation of his more mainstream colleagues."

  Her mind jumped to a slightly different subject. "How come he's fat? He's the first person I've seen out here that hasn't got a perfect body."

  Grae chuckled. "He isn't fat. You haven't seen anyone like him before because you haven't met any real heavy worlders. His home world has about 1.3 times the standard gravity. You think of him as fat because people on your world that looked like him were fat. When you look at him, you're really seeing muscle. He's really a good bit stronger than I am."

  Frenchy got a bit wide-eyed at that revelation. Grae was the strongest man she knew. The idea of Red being stronger than Grae was really something else! And a top level scholar, too. Judging by Justa's obvious opinion of him, the girl was in for a bit of a shock, sooner or later.

  Another thought struck her. "Justa's a beginner, isn't she?"

  He nodded. "Yes. She just got her Master Scholar's degree, what you'd call a Master's, before being taken. She has about five more years of study and research before she can get to the bottom rung of the ladder he's already climbed. She doesn't know it, but she's got a lot to learn before she can really have a decent argument with him on anything like even terms."

  "Hmm," Frenchy said, her face thoughtful. "Maybe we ought to arrange for her to begin that learning."

  A nasty thought was suddenly born in her mind. She decided to sleep on it and let the thought grow up.

  Chapter 6

  Alesos was thoroughly aggravated. Not an unusual state of affairs for him, although he was trying his best not to let it show. Never wise to annoy the money, after all. On the other hand, this meeting was not going at all well.