by neetha Napew
“A fine Hunt, and, it would seem, a fine party to come,’ Hu Shih complimented Todd, reaching up to pat the young man on the shoulder, and nodding amiably to Hrriss. The venerable metropologist’s eyes were shining as he took in the decorations and the happy crowd filling the Hall. “No Hunters with more than scrapes and bruises and’ - Hu’s eyes twinkled-‘depressed ambitions. Very well done, indeed.”
“Thank you, sir,’ Todd said, politely dropping into Middle Hrruban, since the Fifth Speaker was here in a social capacity. “Have you heard about the Boncyk sows?”
“Indeed we have,’ Hu Shih replied, his usually composed face becoming wreathed with laughter.
“The tale will return with me to Hrruba,’ the Fifth Speaker replied, his deep black eyes sparkling. “It is, of course, the greatest pity that the scene was not recorded, but the various narrators seem to agree on so many details that the truth will not suffer much in the retelling.” “We are considering the addition of a Sow Brigade to next year’s Hunt,’ Todd went on, dropping his jaw in a Hrruban-style grin.
He saw Hu’s start of surprise but the Fifth Speaker grumbled his throat chuckle and Hu relaxed. Todd had always been on special terms with Hrruban Speakers and could dare where protocol would have strictly forbidden such banter.
Todd was not surprised when Hu deftly eased the Speaker toward the dais and the special chairs where the elders would observe the proceedings.
“I will expect a full report of their performance next year, Zodd,’ the Speaker said, allowing himself to be shepherded away.
The Ad Hoc Band began to play incidental music, loud enough to be heard through the low roar of conversation but not loud enough to drown it.
Todd looked around for All Kiachif, one of the oldest friends of the colony and its most faithful proponent. The swarthy, drink-loving old Codep captain had missed few New Home Weeks since the beginning, attending anytime he could arrange his schedule to be there. He wasn’t in the Hall yet, and Todd couldn’t remember having heard anyone mention that he’d arrived. Todd was a little disappointed, but he could well understand it if Kiachif wasn’t able to make it back to Doona.
Kiachif was a busy man these days. His rounds had grown a hundredfold since the colony’s inception, and had earned him a small fleet of ships serving under him, plying the expanding spaceways, carrying cargo and passengers. Doona was still one of his favorite stops. He always claimed it rested his eyes from the sometimes horrific conditions on mining planets, which far outnumbered the agricultural planets, where people lived in miserable conditions in the stale air of domes or in the unremitting toil of prison facilities.
While he never mentioned Doonan grog, everyone knew that it was more to his taste than methylated spirits cooked over a Bunsen burner.
In their festive best, everyone looked cheerfully ready to enjoy themselves to the fullest. The threat of being overrun by the great snakes had once again been averted. In the true spirit of Doona, some of the native Humans wore Hrruban dress, and some of the Hrrubans affected “Trran’ trousers, skirts, or dresses. The various diplomats were attired more formally but not repressively so, while their young wards and the other guests were dressed in the latest styles from Earth or Hrruba. Evidently the fashion industries of both cultures had been stimulated by the contact, and styles had merged, mingled, and then evolved to become highly individualistic.
Oddly enough, though most Terrans still spoke in murmurs, their clothes shouted in the most vivid of shades, enhanced by additives that caused iridescence and luminosity, sometimes rather shocking to the eye. Todd felt almost conservative in the green casual trousers and darker green silk shirt sent to him by his sister Ilsa. She had gone back to Earth for higher education and had married a man she met at school. Byron worked as a consultant to Spacedep, so he was occasionally on Doona to visit the Treaty Island, as he was for the Hunt. He was a fair stickman, playing his turn with the band, bobbing his head to the rhythm as he beat the drum skins. He threw a sideways grin toward Todd.
“There’s Hrringa, Kelly said, smiling at a tall, almost chestnut-maned Hrruban in crisp formal attire. “I’m glad they sent someone down to spell him at the Hrruban &nter. He’d have hated to miss the fun.” Todd nodded to the catman, who was serving a term as the transportation grid operator in the Hrruban consulate on Earth.
Hrringa was a member of Hrriss’s clan. Though his friend never made much of it, his family was of a fairly broad Stripe.
“They always do. He was on Team Ten in the Hunt, you know. Did you see much of each other?” Todd asked Kelly.
“Quite a lot. Most people on Earth don’t speak the language, so I’m sort of a tie to home. So few people realize that he speaks fluent Terran: and there are always those who try to talk pidgin Hrruban with him.” She rolled her eyes at such an insult to her friend. “Then there’s the opposite extreme with those silly men in Amalgamated Worlds Administration treating him as some sort of sacred shaman.
Hrriss made a noise like a snort. “What do you expect from them?” Kelly’s expression turned sheepish. “I tried to wangle a ride home through the grid instead of flying out,’ she admitted. “Hrringa would have obliged me, I know, but they don’t like us junior types to use the grid when the senior diplomats can’t get access anytime they want to.
They waved me off. It was no use my explaining that Hrringa and I were raised together, or that I had a right to go to Doona.” She clicked her tongue regretfully.
“Well, I’d better go be a good hostess. My mother said if I wasn’t on the front line shaking hands .
She left the threat unspoken, with a broad grin to show she knew it wasn’t serious. “I’ll find you later, Todd. Keep your ears open.” “You, too.” Todd blinked as Kelly was swallowed up immediately by th swirling crowd. He couldn’t believe how fast the Hall had filled up.
He looked at Hrriss, who was also looking a bit dazed.
“We were so intent, we were not paying attention,’ the Hrruban said.
“Meanwhile, the party has created itself.”
“Yeah.” Todd craned his neck for one last look at the girl. “Kelly looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” “Her grace is one with her beauty,’ Hrriss said approvingly. “Come, Team Leader, we have other duties even as she does.” Young men and women warily carried full trays of drinks and nibble snacks past them into the main room. As the kitchen doors swung to and from, Hrriss and Todd caught sight of Mrrva. Hrriss’s mother could be seen standing over a huge simmering pot with a spoon to her lips, tasting the contents for spice. Mrrva held the Hrruban equivalent of five college degrees in physical health science, and was director of the Rralan Health Services, but she also enjoyed the simple tasks of hospitality that entertaining on Doona required. Her eyes widened when she saw her son and Todd enter.
“Go out therrre,’ she ordered, pointing with her spoon toward the doorway. “Why are you here? We do not need help from such as you.
The Masters of the Hunt should mingle with guests, not serve like cubs and youths.”
“But, Mrrva . . .” Todd began, his voice wheedling as he edged toward some of her famous pastries.
She slapped his hand with her spoon and immediately threw him a cloth to clean off the sticky liquid.
“You will be served in due courssse,’ Mrrva said in a tone which brooked no further discussion. She made a sound between a hiss and a growl. “When will we ever put the manners of a man and Master on you, Zodd!” Then she turned on Hrriss. “I know you have been taught. Go now and exercise the teaching.
Abashed, the two returned to the Hall. Leading the Hunt had been a pleasure. Hosting the party was a chore they would gladly have missed. The throng had swelled to hundreds in the great room.
Todd passed among them, shaking hands and returning kisses. While on the one hand he was glad to see the friends that reappeared year after year, on the other, there was never any time to catch up on any details-of their success in the Hunt let alone what they’d been doing the pas
t year-before someone else claimed attention.
He and Hrriss finally made their way to the dais and stood in front of the main table. Before the feast could officially begin, the long-awaited blooding ceremony for the successful Hunters must proceed.
As Master of the Hunt and master of ceremonies, Todd was required to make a short speech of welcome to the sea of guests. He would speak in Terran, with Hrriss repeating it after him in Middle Hrruban. He had a feeling of dej vu. It had been only a few weeks before that he stood and listened to the governor of Hrretha offer similar greetings to his guests. There had been many like events in the last few years.
They were beginning to blur into one another. He began by offering his gratitude to all the people who had aided in organizing and running the Hunt, and went on from there.
“To old friends and family, I welcome you home, and to new friends and first-time visitors, I hope you’ll enjoy your stay, and that you’ll return to us again in the future,’ Todd said, winding up the necessary remarks. “I won’t hold up dinner long.
The cooks would throw me into the stew with the snakes!” There was a small murmur of appreciative laughter, and Todd held up a hand.
“However, there are some people I’m happy to call to your attention.
They’ve earned this moment. As I call your name, will you come up on this dais, please?” The Hunters who had passed their initiation rite that day by capturing a brace of adolescent snakes were called up one by one, to stand shoulder-toshoulder before the audience. Some of them were shy and directed their smiles down at their feet as Todd congratulated them on their successful passage. One among them-a young woman from the mining colony of Ellerell IV-had chosen instead to bring in eggs. She had saved all her extra pay for five years to be able to make it to Doona for Snake Hunt. When first laid, snake eggs were almost too soft to move. By the time they had hardened enough to transport, there was a real danger that they might hatch on the way in.
She had brought in twelve of the soft and leathery head-sized eggs in a specially designed fluff-lined sack brought all the way from Ellerell. Her thoroughness and care impressed even the Doonan judges, who had seen a lot of inventive approaches to the problem over the last two decades. She was invested with the small gold medal from which depended two wiggly streamers. Some of the children squealed when they saw the ribbons, which looked amazingly like.
the tails of miniature snakes. She and the other Hunters wore their awards proudly as they were given a standing ovation.
Jilamey Landreau was called forward with the rest of the almost-successful who had captured a single snake. He shook hands with Todd and Hrriss to the accompaniment of encouraging applause from the audience.
“Thank you, Todd,’ the young Landreau said, clutching his medal with the single streamer. “I wish there had been a chance to take the second snake.
I was so close!”
“Next year,’ Todd suggested. “Your first was a good capture. We can hold that snake “on credit,’ so to speak.”
“Hey, you could?” the youth exclaimed, his eyes shining. Todd recognized that the Hunt craze had claimed another adherent. “Can I get the hide to take back with me? I want to use the stripe as a fashion accessory!
That’ll really make “em look twice at me!”
“I’ll see to it,’ Todd said, slightly amused at the young Landreau’s naive delight. He clapped Jilamey on the shoulder encouragingly before moving on to congratulate the next participant.
The feast was then officially begun. As the Hunters, both successful and unsuccessful, sat down, Byron played a roll on the snare drum to get everyone’s attention. It segued into a compelling, irregular beat on torn-torn. Clad only in their knife belts and ornamental necklaces, several young Hrrubans ran in and began a stomping, swirling dance: obviously a Snake Hunt. Two lithe female dancers, acting in tandem as if they were part of the same body, portrayed the snake. They snapped imaginary coils toward the Hunters or recoiled fearfully from their spears. It was a compelling sight, as the rear half of the snake curled herself on the floor behind the body of the other and switched her tail fitfully as the front half swayed, striking at this dancer or that with her fangs. The Hunters catapulted past the reptile to attack, missing and hitting the floor beyond. With great energy, they rolled upright to their feet like kittens and renewed their attacks on their foe.
The upright dancer was so skillful that she didn’t appear to have a solid bone in her body. Her undulations had a hypnotic quality. It was a shock to the watchers when one spearman sprang forward, past the snapping jaws, and plunged the weapon into the snake’s breast. The serpent gave one tremendous convulsion and subsided to the floor gracefully to quiver into stillness. When the snake had “died,’ a complimentary silence held the audience. Then a burst of thunderous applause awarded the dancers. They sprang up, acknowledging the praise, and then gathered to either side of the doors leading to the kitchen.
The band stayed on its dais long enough to play a fanfare to announce the arrival of a massive cauldron borne aloft on a tray by eight young men and women clad to the ears in heatproof towelling.
The huge kettle of savory snake stew was presented to Todd as the Master of the Hunt. With intricately decorated ladles, Todd and Hrriss served the special guests on the dais, after which the cauldron was brought to the long sideboard. From then on, buffet style was the order and everyone served themselves from the seemingly inexhaustible supply of stew and the other viands brought out from the kitchen. Todd caught sight of Mrrva sitting down at the end of the table near Hrrestan: she had shed her apron to display gorgeous filmy robes spangled with jewels.
As the party began in earnest, toasts were offered to the Hunters and the prey. For many of the guests, the feast was a double reason for celebration. For some this would be the first time they had eaten “real,’ unprocessed or nonsynthetic food. For others, this was a high point of gastronomic enjoyment. It was true that every year, more real fruit, vegetables, grain, and meat were being made available to the people of Earth from its farming colonies, but the majority of homeworld meals still came from synthesizers. Hrriss nudged Todd in the ribs and indicated a child at one of the front tables. He was suspiciously and most reluctantly taking a tiny bite of fruit from a spoon. The tot sniffed it first, not in the least willing to trust the curious substance in front of him. With much coaxing and much gesturing to others tucking into their food, the child’s mother got him to accept the morsel. After a very tentative chew, the boy grabbed the spoon out of his mother’s hand, finished the bowl in front of him, and.
reached for his mother’s as well.
When all had eaten sufficiently, the party went on to its next, and inevitable, stage. The Ad Hoc Band resumed its place on the dais and started to play dancing music. A few took advantage of the music, but most sat contentedly, letting the meal settle. Gradually, drinks in hand, diners began to circulate the Hall, pausing to chat with old friends or welcome newcomers, or congratulate the new Hunters.
Todd and Hrriss excused themselves from the dais and began more protocol rounds just as the Ad Hoc Band started to play a perky song, based on an ancient Earth chantey. It was a joke among DoonaiRralans, but it had never been played at a New Home Week before. Todd guessed that Sally Lawrence, who had written the new lyrics, wanted a broader audience. He hoped that the listeners would accept it for the facetious tweak it was, and not take it seriously. Sally’s eyes were twinkling as she struck a chord on her guitar and began to sing.
“My mother was a human girl from Doona Village Four She loved a handsome Hrruban boy who lived just next door Their love bore offspring, one, two, three A kitten and a werecat and the third was me.
“Now my brother Hrrn and I, we were raised up quite all right But my sister Mrrna Joan, she was different day and night Smooth-skinned at night, by day her fur grew She was a true Doonan through and through.
“Yo ho ho! A Rralan true Takes the best of both as all should do.
&nb
sp; It was a familiar tune to the locals. Some joined in the chorus, roaring a lusty “Yo ho ho!” Nearly everyone else seemed to get the joke, to judge by the shouts of approval and calls for an encore. Todd noticed that some of the Human diplomats looked annoyed, and a few of the Hrruban homeworlders looked positively ill at the thought of Hrrubans and Humans interbreeding. Todd couldn’t think how to explain that the thought had never seriously crossed the mind of the songwriter.
“Maybe this is the moment to start the dancing?” Kelly said, coming up behind Todd and poking him in the side with a finger.
“I’m not very good at it,’ Todd said apologetically, but he gestured to the handleader, who immediately struck a fast step.
Immediately the floor was full of couples, whirling and jigging about in circles.
“Neither am I!” Kelly seized his hand. “Let’s go anyway!” Jaw dropped in amusement, Hrriss leaned toward him. “If she promises not to step on my tail, I get the nexxxt dansss.”
“It’s a deal,’ Kelly called as she dragged Todd into the crowd.
Kelly had told a fib when she said she was a poor dancer. With her hands bunched in the folds of her skirts, she swayed and stepped with grace to the lively melody. Todd knew the steps, but he felt as awkward as a wooden mda trying to keep up with her. He was relieved when that music stopped and a slow dance began. Kelly melted into his arms, stretching up one hand to his neck. That was oddly delightful.
They had grown up together, but he had never realized before that she was so much smaller than he, so delicately built-or, to be more honest, that she was a girl at all. She had just been one of the capable people he depended on, until she went away. Kelly had never balked at fences, and she could wrangle snakes or horses with the best.
He could barely connect the tomboy who had grown up literally next door with the sparkling vision in his arms. Unconsciously he tightened his hold a trifle, and she rubbed her cheek against his chest. The music drifted to a halt, and Kelly turned her face up to give him a brilliant smile, her golden eyes aflame in the festival lamplight.