"And, Lieutenant, I'm glad you came on this trip," he continued.
"Now I know you're lying!" she retorted. "I lost a horse."
"You didn't lose the horse. It could just have easily been any of us. That crocodile was going to get any horse it wanted," he said. "No, I'm glad you came, because now you can see how important the horses are. The horses will make the difference between us living or dying on this planet. But I'm real sorry you had to get hurt."
"Me, too," she said. They continued in silence, starting a descent into the narrow valley leading to the ferry landing.
"You're probably right about the horses, Mac," Buccari finally said.
"Of course I'm right," MacArthur responded, cocksure. "Arrogant asshole!" she replied.
"Affectionate nicknames! Thank you very much." He reached back and gave her a gentle, lingering pat on her thigh.
"You stink," she said quietly. She looked at his hand but made no effort to move it away.
"So do you," he replied.
"No I don't, I'm an officer and a lady."
"Well, one out of two ain't bad."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.
"Nothing, nothing, er…just a little Marine humor."
Buccari grabbed a handful of the Marine's skin and pinched hard.
"Aarrggh!" he shouted loudly.
"You're lucky I don't have a knife."
Chapter 37. Autumn
Hudson settled into the acceleration chair. The crew of the booster rocket worked efficiently, giving clear evidence that konish space travel was a routine event. A konish full-pressure suit and helmet had been modified for his use, but it was not elegantly done. It hung on him, and he was certain the impending g-forces would efficiently locate all spots where the material was gathered.
"The flight-ah will take-ah forty of your minutes, Hudsawn," Kateos said, strapping in next to him. "If you have difficulties, please tell me." Her proficiency with Legion was incredible. His own facility with the konish tongue was growing more slowly. Kateos drove them to learn each other's language, while she continued to make progress with the voice recognition and translation programs.
Hudson was to spend the winter across the planet, at Goldmine Station. It was Kateos's idea, seconded immediately by Buccari. A common language was necessary. Without adequate communications an accord between the races would be unlikely. Hudson's role as emissary and translator was formalized.
The modest domicile, appropriate for a young warrior, was high on the cliffs—windy, cold, and near the dangers of carnivorous interlopers—but it was his. He was master. Returned from the successful salt mission, Brappa, son-of-Braan, glided onto the terrace of his new home. Gliss, beautiful and nubile, waited on the windswept rock, dark growlerskin pulled tightly around strong, capable shoulders. The sight of his new wife caused Brappa' s heart to soar with boundless spirit. Gliss opened her arms and Brappa embraced her. Scandalous behavior, yet understood and forgiven: the fervor of youth.
"Husband," his wife said. "A meal is ready, and thy rooms art warm."
"Thine eyes art the only warmth I need," Brappa replied, singing the famous words of love. "I have missed thee dearly. Now we live our lives as one, for I am home."
Glorious words. The salt vaults were filled and the hunting forays over. Home were the hunters, and happy were their wives and families. It had been a good year with but few hunters lost or injured. Many gave credit to the long-legs for the colony's good fortune.
Gliss was radiant; Brappa knew she wanted many children. The delighted pair turned to their entryway—and came to a halt, for sonic echoes lifted on the breezes. Familiar sounds—friendly noises—separated from the ambient background, and distinctive echo patterns grew louder.
Their time alone would have to wait.
"They come," he said unnecessarily. The lovers turned and faced the steamy emptiness. Two young cousins flapped happily to the terrace wall and took perch, and then Braan and Ki wheeled into view, landing with athletic prowess, followed by Craag and his mate; and then the venerable patriarch, Veera—grandsire to Gliss— lifted above the terrace wall, alighting with stately dignity. The terrace was quickly overflowing with family and well-wishers; lesser members of the clans perched on the walls and rocky cliffs behind them.
"Thy manners, my son. Thou wouldst invite thy guests into thy home," Ki pronounced, softly but formally. "'Tis impolite to keep friends on the terrace overlong."
"Our home is thine," said the nervous Gliss, using a timeless litany. "Please enter and sing." She turned and hurried inside, panic on her young and beautiful face. Brappa followed, leading the multitude into his humble three-room warren.
Food and drink were brought, and the singing was vibrant. What more festive than a homewarming and the celebration of the coming of winter combined? The celebrants and their gleeful noise overflowed the friendly confines. Neighbors stopped to partake in the cheer and goodwill. Singing spread over the cliff face, and it was a night for the ages.
Resplendent, the valley was painted with the magic wand of autumn. Forest pine, emerald fir, and blue spruce gave depth and contrast to the russet and gold of the turning hardwood. Dry, brittle leaves, dusted with frost, layered the forest floor, and on crisp mornings an earnest film of ice margined the lake, laminating the stony beaches with frosty glaze. It was cold, but as the days shortened the sun shone brighter.
Day's end, a peaceful, chilly gloaming settled over the valley; stars twinkled in deep velvet. Standing at the threshold of her new stone cabin, Buccari noticed Dawson, her infant carried papoose fashion, walking across the common. The tall redhead smiled and waved enthusiastically. Buccari reciprocated.
A commotion came from the horse barn, the horses neighing and prancing; O'Toole was feeding the animals. Threads of smoke wafted into the twilight; the homey smell of wood fire bespoke the coming mealtime. A palisade of sturdy pine boles, strong enough to deter bears and buffalo dragon ran the perimeter of the settlement, with a stout gate that opened to the lake. Two smaller doors provided alternate escape or entry routes. Guard posts, uniformly box-shaped, stood at four of the five corners of the fort, and Shannon, at Buccari's insistence, kept at least two manned at all times.
The harvest had been bountiful. A round stone structure stood next to the horse barn—a grain silo—filled with raw grain. Tookmanian had built a kiln for pottery and an adobe-brick oven in which to bake biscuits and coarse breads. Yeast and small amounts of salt and honey were provided by the cliff dwellers. Bread, wild tubers, herbs, berries, buffalo steaks, and the abundant fish of the lake provided a healthy diet.
Buccari studied her callused hands with pride. She was proud of herself and her crew. Most of them were warming themselves inside the sturdy lodge, where Wilson and his kitchen staff were moving across the rough-hewn floor preparing evening meal; the next watch was already eating. She debated a shower; the lodge had running water—of sorts. The friendly spring upon which they had centered the camp was channeled through stone and leather aqueducts directly into the lodge, and a large, beaten-metal pot hung suspended over a fire in a room off the kitchen. The hot water was used for washing—clothes and bodies. Fenstermacher hadcontrived plumbing that fed an adjustable mixture of icy spring water and hot pot water. The lines to take showers were long, and the warm water pot was always in need of replenishment. Buccari decided against the shower. She would clean up inside her own hut.
Buccari retreated into her abode, closing the thick door; leather hinges squeaked softly. The shutters were already pulled to, and she could feel the glow of the fire radiating and warming the single room. No more than six paces square with a floor of hewn wood, to Buccari the hovel was a castle. The fireplace, built with a wide-stepped hearth for corded wood, dominated the back wall. The door stood centered in the front, and shuttered windows penetrated two of the walls. A low ceiling formed a loft in which she made her bed. A stair built into the wall slanted steeply upwards.