Festival Moon

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by C. J. Cherryh


  Moving down the food chain, we come to the smaller "reptiles and amphibians." Here the rule is, if it has teeth, it will usually bite. Nature has been a bit kinder to humans here—the poisonous ones advertise themselves with bright, vivid colors. The three most often fatal are:

  THE BLOOD-SKINK: about ten to twenty centimeters long, and a vivid ruby red in color, the blood-skink is normally shy except in summer (mating season). Both sexes fight, both are poisonous. The venom is a neurotoxin acdng on the autonomic nervous system.

  THE ASP: named for Cleopatra's pet, this is actually a legless lizard patterned in brown and bright yellow. It lives in the center of reed clumps. It is normally shy but will bite if disturbed, frightened, or captured. The venom is, like that of the Indian krait, a catalyzing enzyme; it causes euphoria and vivid hallucinations, and death is usually due to heart-failure.

  THE KOBRA: this is a true snake, rarely exceeding ten centimeters and pencil-thin. In color it is a vivid emerald green. It is most often encountered because it has climbed up onto a raft or boat to sun itself; it is incredibly quick, and can strike and be over the side almost before the hapless swampy has realized it was there. The venom is a respiratory system depressant; death is caused by asphyxiation.

  A variety of other toothy denizens can be an indirect cause of death via infection of the wound.

  WHO'RE YE CALLING VERMIN?

  Along with cats, rats and mice went to space, made it to Merovin, and unlike the human colonists, throve. How they got here is uncertain; legend has it that they are all descendants of a shipment of lab animals whose cages broke during an earthquake. This may be at least partially true; there is a heavy preponderance of albinism among them; also about twenty percent of the population are piebald (Wistar) rats.

  The indigenous critters to look out for are as follows:

  SKITS: about the size of a large mouse, these things look like an unholy mating of crab and shrew; they have sharp hairy snouts with lots of teeth, a horny carapace, a long, hairless tail, and a voracious appetite. They are found in the swamp and in town, both. They are omnivorous, and the main reason why no sane swampy will try to store food; if more than ten assemble to chow down, it kicks off a feeding frenzy among them. If stored food attracted a swarm (a feeding group of a hundred or more) to a raft, the inhabitant stands a real good chance of ending up on the menu, literally nibbled to death.

  MUDSUCKERS: the Merovingen leech; they will attach themselves to the unfortunate who happens upon them and will create a nasty sore before realizing that they've latched onto something inedible and drop off.

  NARKS: the Merovingen cockroach; similar in habitat and indestructibility, they look rather like a silverbit sized insect that couldn't make up its mind whether to be a spider or a beetle.

  In addition, a number of the smaller lizards have made themselves at home in the canals and buildings of Merovingen. They're mostly shy and harmless; many of them actually provide a service of eating insects and insect larvae.

  For the most part, Merovin insect life finds humans unpalatable; the one thing a swampy or canaler DOESN'T have to deal with is mosquitoes and flies, or the local equivalent. This is the one bright spot in an otherwise unpleasant existence.

  Index of Isles and Buddings by Regions

  GUARDIAN

  Lyrics & Music: Leslie Fish, (c) 9/22/83

  (rewritten by: Rif)

  See him stalking, day or night, the islands of the bay,

  Like some veteran tiger1 tome to hunt his chosen prey.

  He'll never lack for targets here, for scum will always rise,

  And to the man who guards your walls that comes as no surprise.

  Chorus:

  And who will be the guardian to take your dangers on?

  Who will guard your sleep at night when ol' Black Cal is gone?

  For one in ten's a predator who treats the rest as prey,

  So someone's always needed here to drive those wolves' away.

  We never left the jungle; we just brought it into town.

  The leopards' take on human form, and follow us around. (Cho.)

  Who will dare deny him there, and say it isn't so,

  Must claim there is no street2 at night they wouldn't dare to go,

  That chanty or righteousness will keep them safe from harm,

  And if their own front door is shut, the whole wide world is warm. (Cho.)

  Who will say the job is wrong, and shouldn't be at all,

  Must then take up the gun themselves to guard each door and wall,

  Must spend their nights in sentry-rounds, their days in packing heat.

  It's easier to pay the man full-time to guard your street. (Cho.)

  Evolution never stopped; we always have to choose.

  The thug who waits to mug you is collecting Darwin’s3 dues.

  And you can't drive hyenas4 off by kneeling down to pray-

  So who will raise the weapon, then, to keep the beasts at bay?

  (Cho.) Last Chorus:

  Run like deer,1 or die like sheep, or take your dangers on;

  For you must guard your streets yourselves when ol' Black Cal is gone.

  (Available—original form—on tape from Off Centaur Publications, P O Box 424, El Cerrito, CA 94530)

  BLACK WATER (SUICIDE)

  Lyrics copyright 1986 by Mercedes R. Lackey, Music copyright 1986 by C.J. Cherryh

  (Sung by Rif and Rat at Hoh's)

  Black Water, be my lover, for lover have I none

  Nor ever shall, and empty ache alone

  Black water, be my lover, for all my dreams are done

  And you are kinder than what life has shown.

  CHORUS:

  Black water, final rescue; dark water, lasting peace,

  Black water, keeping secrets none may know.

  Black water, final rescue; bring silence and release

  Black water, through the city swifily flow.

  Black water, hold my secret—my shame I beg you hide

  I cannot bear to meet a friend or foe

  Black water, hold my secret and save my shattered pride

  And let them never guess and never know.

  Black water, I am weary—the days are all the same

  The years creep by with never hope to see.

  Black water, life is dreary—I'm tired of the game

  I'd rather far your quiet company.

  Black water, be my refuge—I hear them at my back

  My enemies pursue me to a man

  Black water, be my refuge—they close upon my track

  And better your embrace than what they plan.

  PRIVATE CONVERSATION

  Lyrics copyright 1986 by Mercedes R. Lackey,

  Music copyright 1986 by C.J. Cherryh.

  Angel, this is Altair Jones—ye maybe know my name—

  'Cause yours is Retribution an' my Mama's was the same.

  Angel, I got problems, an' I ain't sure what to do—

  So maybe I can get 'em straight by tellin' 'em to you.

  Angel, there's this feller—oh dear Lord, that man is fine—

  He kinda looks a lot like you; I kinda hope he's mine.

  Now enemies are pretty cheap.—I got my share, I guess—

  But Angel, from what I can see he's in one god-all mess.

  It seems he maybe likes me, kinda maybe like he cares—

  But when I ask his troubles, well he just sits there and stares.

  An' when I wanta help 'im—damn, he won't take help from me!

  Angel, what's the problem? Is it somethin' I can't be?

  Angel, yeah, I hear ye—thinking, 'damn that girl's a fool.'

  But hey, if I don't help 'im would ye kindly tell me who'll

  Put their own necks in the noose or give 'im so much as a hand?

  Oh I see ye smilin', Angel—kinda thought ye'd understand.

  Angel, Mama tol' me not t' do what I just done—

  T’ let my heart go lead my head—hell, notfer anyone.<
br />
  But Angel, he's a fool, an' I'm another fool, ye see—

  An' I hear that ye stayed here to watch over fools.

  Could ye keep 'im safe—-fer me?

  1 Like many songs of Merovingen, this one came down from early ballads of Earth, written by the poet Leslie Fish. It shows its authenticity by the reference to several Terran lifeforms of which only vaguest details have been preserved in record. Likely it underwent several transitions from the original material before it achieved its present form, attributed to one Rif, no other name known.

  2 This reference may have predated the Great Quake.

  3 Darwin is a saint in New Worlder belief, and this difficult verse is possibly corrupt

  4 The word hyenas is of uncertain meaning. It may refer to ancient spirits of disaster.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  C.J. CHERRYH invites you to enter the world of MEROVINGEN NIGHTS!

  Title

  FESTIVAL MOON Copyright © 1987 by C.J. Cherryh.

  Map

  FESTIVAL MOON

  FIRST NIGHT CRUISE

  FESTIVAL MOON (REPRISED)

  TWO GENTLEMEN OF THE TRADE

  FESTIVAL MOON (REPRISED)

  CATS TALE

  FESTIVAL MOON (REPRISED)

  DEATHANGEL

  FESTIVAL MOON (REPRISED)

  SWORD PLAY

  FESTIVAL MOON (REPRISED)

  FIRST-BATH

  FESTIVAL MOON (REPRISED)

  NIGHT ACTION

  FESTIVAL MOON (FINAL REPRISE)

  APPENDIX

  Maps

  MEROVINGEN ECOLOGY

  Index of Isles and Buddings by Regions

  GUARDIAN

  BLACK WATER (SUICIDE)

  PRIVATE CONVERSATION

  Footnotes

 

 

 


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