"One of the few facts April managed to reveal was the Centaurs are an empire in decline, retreating instead of expanding," Lee remembered. "They could still be roused to be a problem if they are big enough. We don't know that one ship was representative of their abilities. It might have been their version of a garbage scow for all we know. Their engineering ability on 2 Ball was certainly impressive."
"I think you are straining to see bogeymen," Talker said, dismissively.
"Perhaps, I'm cautious," Lee claimed.
"Ha! As cautious as a Biter who just had his fourth drink knocked over at the bar for a clear challenge, and as likely to apologize for being in the way and slinking off."
"You think?" Lee asked, amused at his description, but a little pleased too. "I never wanted to be seen as a timid push-over. Once you let yourself be a target the bullies never let up. That was something my cousin in Michigan tried to teach me. My parents were much bigger on getting along and worried I wouldn't be socialized when I got back to society. They may have gone overboard on it a little and Cousin saw that and was trying to correct it."
"I suspect," Lee said, "that besides having a very superior star drive, the people at Central, that is Heather and her peers, the ones who matter, may have similarly better weapons. I think that applies to Home too, or at least they come under an umbrella of protection, because April and some others have dual citizenship. I don't want to ask, and I don't want to find out the hard way.
"I don't fully understand our own star drive," Lee admitted. "Thor tried to explain the jump drive for me, and it didn't make any sense. He tried to simplify it for me and I don't think it's the sort of thing that can be simplified without losing its essence. I found the original papers describing it, but I haven't found time to study them. I may not have the math I need either, and have to study it first."
"I don't know all the details of our star drive either," Talker said. "At least I couldn't reproduce it, and if I can't do that I don't feel I can say I understand it. I have a techie on staff that claims to understand it at that level. I'd be very interested in showing him copies of your papers. He's getting pretty good at English. I'd like to hear him say how your papers and math compare, since our drives obviously work the same."
"Sure. I'll send them to you when we get back. If the Lunarians didn't have not only the drive, but superior weapons, I don't think the Earthies would be as meek as I see them being. I've paid searchers looking at the historic record and asking discreet questions. I expect to find some example of when they demonstrated such abilities that the Earthies are happy not to mention and want to hide from their own people."
"That is how I think the Caterpillars felt when they met you," Talker said. "They saw you as friendly folk, in amusingly little ships. Safe to observe, and get to know slowly. Then when you destroyed that Centaur ship with contemptuous ease they got a sudden jolt that their world view was all wrong. It must have been briefly terrifying to realize they had been playing with people who could have destroyed them at any instant, if they had made a serious error in displaying their intent."
"Gordon is pretty laid-back," Lee said. "He isn't the sort to deal with you by threats first thing. He'd rather cooperate if that will work, without all the drama. You never know when reality will turn around and bite you on the butt, like you were saying about the Caterpillars. I don't want to have the Mothers forced to have such a revelation if I can avoid it. But I don't see how I can ask Heather or her reps to accept Red Tree as their equal, which is ultimately what the Mothers want. Central has a relationship with Home, and with the Lunar Republic, but April described them as being a buffer between Central and Earth. I see no threat to Central that Red Tree can stand ready to ally against credibly."
Talker wrinkled up his snout, which was an indicator of intense emotion when it got dimples. "If you can't offer them the clan as an ally against threats, then what is left but to offer them as an ally to achieve their goals? Isn't that what we Badgers did with the Little Fleet when confronted with you? We offered friendship and you are helping us with the Biters already. You do know what some of Central's goals are, and perhaps with more discussion you can tease out more of them you can support."
"Thank you," Lee said, squeezing his hand. "This is exactly what I hoped you'd do for me, to trim some of the branches of possibility, so I have fewer ideas I have to be ready to present. I didn't feel I could walk in to talk to them prepared for anything. Now I have a program I can try to direct them to approve. They want stability and to be left alone by Earth, and by extension they don't want us meddling in their affairs either. We can promise not to get the Earthies all riled up, if they will just continue to assert control over them, so they don't come bother us. Just as the Earth Claims Commission promoted peace and stability, we can too, in our area of the heavens. We aren't trying to supplant them in their sphere. We can both respect the other's claims. We can likewise promise to respect Central's worlds and claims in the beyond. They may be far away now, but you know we're going to eventually touch on each other's territories. Better to have an agreement now than to deal with it later."
"I don't see how anyone can object to those positions," Talker said. "If talking about it helped crystallize your objectives, I'm glad I could help."
"You need to talk to Gordon's people organizing this, and assert your own desires for our Claims Commission," Lee told him. "Easier to help make it work for you now than to change it if it doesn't suit you later."
"I stand ready." Talker vowed. "That's my newest job. I shall make sure his bank people have my ear, and can get me to speak with them any time. I host the Bills, so I can encourage them to do so also."
"Good, if you've seen all you want to here, lets head back," Lee suggested.
"Agreed," Talker said, and squeezed her hand before letting go. He'd never done that before, so Lee thought it a Human mannerism for emphasis he'd picked up from her.
* * *
Lee woke up with Talker pressed against her from behind. She could feel his arms both tucked in front of him against her back and his muzzle over her shoulder. She was sure he'd wake up when she wiggled away, but he just rolled on his belly with his arms still tight in front of him. His deep slow breathing never faltered. He was really out of it.
Lee used the tripod over the fire pit to make a pot of oatmeal. The odor of food accomplished what movement hadn't. Talker stirred, lifting his muzzle, sniffing deeply. He wandered off to the woods, bare footed, to empty his bladder she was sure. He made Lee contemplate how similar males were of all species, and remembered the vet, Gwen's, comments on that. Perhaps Ha-bob-bob-brie would be different to camp with, after all he slept standing up. Might he would decide to perch in one of the trees given the choice, or had his species adapted completely to the ground? If she camped with a Human male could she ever be as unselfconscious or would it be awkward? The odd thought came that the first negative she saw in a human partner was that he wouldn't be furry. It didn't seem as attractive to her to be against bare skin. People sweat. Yet she remembered her father holding her with fondness. Maybe it would be better in practice than she imagined.
She added a packet of cinnamon and dark sugar, knowing Talker liked both in his oatmeal and a lot of other dishes. She just wished she'd brought a bit more. Her increased appetite since the life extension treatments still seemed to be increasing slowly, It was hard to predict how much she'd want, especially after walking all day. Last night she'd eaten her own steak and then about half of Talker's when he insisted he couldn't finish it.
Coffee was of course de rigeur with the Badger - more like an obsession, if they were both honest about it. His first sip when he came back, and she handed him the mug, was slow and reverent with his eyes closed. Lee wondered how much of that was real and how much was put on as a show for her? It amused her either way. She ate about three times what he did, until he looked at her in wonder, but he didn't say anything.
Lee took Talker to the area where a great winds
torm had blown a large oval of trees flat. She didn't feel it was safe to send him off alone to replace the wood they'd used. He might do OK, but she wasn't sure he wouldn't get turned around and lost with no trail. Lee filled the carrier until the handle barely met and Talker couldn't lift it. She took it instead, shocking him again. Her strength was boosted from her treatments and she wasn't sure that had peaked out yet, any more than her appetite.
Back at camp with the wood stowed safely where it would stay dry Lee watched as Talker made sure the fire was out just like she'd shown him. They had far less to carry than coming out, and more of the trail was down hill going back. It would be an easier hike.
The ford was just as dry as on their way out, it must be fed by run-off from the snow on the mountains, Lee decided. So it would start heavy at the thaw and diminish all year. At least that made sense, and it was so cold that suggested it too. She'd have to remember to ask.
They were most of the way back to the Keep when Lee put a hand out and Talker ran right into it. It was more than a gesture, it stopped him like a fence. He looked down at the hand, which she didn't retract, and to his credit figured out if she was silent he should be too.
"Do Badgers climb trees?" Lee asked, in a hushed, but urgent voice.
"Just so-so," Talker admitted.
"When I draw back my hand, climb the nearest tree you can reach, and don't look back," Lee insisted. When she drew back her hand it went straight to her pistol. Talker hesitated, not seeing what Lee saw. Then the big boar snorted. That got his attention, he didn't know what to look for, but that noise guided his eyes. The dark shape half hidden in deep shadow wasn't anything cataloged in his brain. All he saw clearly were two small unfriendly eyes focused on him out of a dark mass. He was still trying to figure out what it was, but when it started to move towards them aggressively, he finally saw the size of the thing and didn't need to be urged again, he bolted for the trees like his life depended on it. It did.
Lee didn't spare a glance to see what Talker was doing. Things slowed down and the improved reflexes she'd bought with her life extension therapy paid for themselves. She thumbed the safety off, flicked the selector up to full auto and aimed halfway between her and the boar. It only took a second for it to cover that distance, and Lee squeezed the trigger with a strange detachment, her blood singing in her ears. The pistol roared with a harsh ripping sound and climbed briefly in recoil before it locked open and empty.
The first shot passed through the air between the pig's legs as a clean miss. The next barely caught it, ripping through its soft belly, completely missing anything boney and of substance. The next two broke through its boney shoulder shattering it, and it started to fall, veering off course with the front leg not obeying its commands, but the hind legs were still driving it forward. The next round tore its jaw to shreds and tore through the neck behind. It was already dead, any of the three wounds mortal, though it was unaware of it yet.
That didn't mean it wasn't going to kill Lee before it got around to dying. However, the next two rounds shattered its skull and destroyed its brain so fast it never had time to realize it was mortally hurt. The last few rounds in the magazine flew clean over it into the woods where there was nothing to harm. The pig slid past Lee on the thin leaves, front leg twisted under it grotesquely, veering like a ground car with a blown front tire. The back legs out straight trailing behind it. By the time she started to think about jumping away it was too late to even squat to do so. It came to a rest rear legs still twitching though it was thoroughly dead.
Lee dropped the empty magazine and slapped another home. She turned looking all around, searching for any more pigs. They ran in groups didn't they? Nothing moved and she heard nothing. After her fire the woods were even quieter than usual. After a while she moved the selector off auto, but couldn't bring herself to holster the pistol just yet.
A slight noise made her look up. Talker was up a fairly good sized tree. Big enough around she knew he hadn't climbed the trunk. The first limb under him was about three meters from the ground, which meant he'd reached it in one jump and kept climbing. It was all the more impressive because he still had his bag slung under his arm. He had that shocked open mouthed look that said he didn't quite believe it either. Now he was dismayed, looking down like he wandered how the Devil he was going to get back down. Lee couldn't help it, she started laughing until she had to lean over with hands on both knees, gun still clutched in one.
"Drop your bag down," Lee finally advised him, when the worst of the laughter was done. She holstered her gun after one last glance around, and walked over, but not directly under him. She didn't intend to let him fall on her. He was too big to safely catch. "You don't need the weight of it when you drop. If you can drop from limb to limb the last drop won't be so bad if you hang down before letting go."
Talker dropped the bag, hung from the limb and tried to grab the second limb when he let go. He got his hands on it, but couldn't hold on, swinging around it enough to flip himself over a full turn in the air. He landed on the bottom limb belly first, hard enough that Lee heard the breath knocked out of him. It did break his fall even if he never got a good grip on it.
Fortunately he rolled off backward so he didn't fall on his head. Talker hit the ground with his feet, but not with them centered under him far enough to break his fall much. Instead he rolled backwards, taking the hit mainly on his skinny butt, and then kept rolling until he ended up on his belly.
"Stay still, stay still," Lee insisted, wanting to check him for injuries before he moved, but he ignored her and rolled on his back.
"How did I ever get up there?" Talker asked in shock staring up at the branches.
"I imagine it looks further away laying flat on the ground," Lee said. "Move one leg at a time, and yell if anything feels broken."
He did as she asked, and then each arm and his hands although she hadn't requested that.
"I'm going to be one big bruise on my butt. I'm just really glad I got my tail tucked before I hit. It takes months and months to recover from a busted tail."
"You don't have to be in any hurry to get up for me," Lee said. "Make sure everything is working before you put weight on it."
"Do you see any more?" Talker asked, rolling his head to look each way.
"If I had, I'd be up there beside you," Lee said pointing at his previous perch.
"Can you jump that high?" Talker asked dubiously.
"Listen who's asking," Lee said sarcastically. "Can Badgers climb?" she asked again. "Oh just so-so," she answered trying to pitch her voice like his. "It depends on the motivation."
It was his turn to laugh for release.
When he struggled to rise Lee lent him a hand. He get up, but fully vertical was slow, and he held his butt with both hands, paying no attention to dignity. A few careful steps were encouraging. "I think I can make it back to the Keep OK," he decided.
"Oh good, I won't have to put you down here, because you're crippled," Lee said.
That got a grimace, and an unfunny look. Talker approached the boar, tentatively, looking it over amazed. "He's a big sucker," he said, stating the obvious.
"Uh-huh, probably four hundred kilo, maybe a little more. Gordon said they compete with a native animal that tunnel more than Earth pigs. I think they regretted ever letting them get loose in the wild," Lee said. "He told me one chased a fairly good sized male Derf cub up a tree and wouldn't let him down for a couple days."
"This is Earth life?" Talker asked, surprised.
"Yeah, everything this size the Derf long ago hunted to extinction," Lee explained. "This is a pig. Well, pork now," she corrected. "It's a shame to waste it all, but I have a dinky little kitchen knife and no way I want to try to hack a ham off with it."
"I had no idea what a pig looked like. I think I saw an idealized image of a pig as a ceramic bank, with a coin slot on top, but it was pink and shiny and didn't look anything like this."
"Oh, that's what the domesticated ones look
like. A couple generations in the woods and they revert to the common genotype. The hair comes in dark and longer and the tusks come back," she said, pointing them out.
Walker just shuddered. He figured out what those would do. "I'll take my ham like I saw Gordon have it. Scored criss-cross, spotted with cloves, and baked until the surface is crispy. How are the Mothers going to feel about this happening on their territory?" He worried.
Lee shrugged. "They know they're out here. It happens. Most of these swine have the sense not to go around the noise and commotion of a Keep. But they can be . . . territorial. This fellow must have decided we were encroaching. The Derf know not to mess with one unarmed, and their hunters will take a few in the fall hunting season. Keep in mind they will take them with bow or with spear. Why say anything? In three days there won't be anything here to see. The scavengers will have picked it clean and scattered the bones. Unless you want to brag on how you learned to fly. It would just upset Gordon and he'd resolve all over again never to let me out of his sight. Why worry him? Life is dangerous, you can't hide in a hole."
Talker looked up at the branches again, and shook his head, unbelieving. "As you wish, I thank you for your friendship, demonstrated again by saving my life."
Lee smiled big. "The English idiom is, 'Thanks for saving my bacon.' Now, when do you want me to start teaching you pistol? So you can, take care of business, yourself next time."
"Ah, I heard that inflection, another idiom! You're just full of them. Well, I don't want there to be a next time," Talker objected. But a couple hundred meters down the trail he relented. "When I can buy a pistol that fits my hand properly, and we happen to have time together again. We'll do it."
"You buy it, or have it made, and we'll do that when I come back," Lee promised.
Chapter 15
Talker looked like, well . . . like he had been rolling around on the ground. Lee slapped as much of it off as she could with a floppy hat she carried, but that only made a start on the big pieces. Was she really romanticizing the merits of fur just yesterday? It seemed like a tremendous big pain in the butt right now. Speaking of which Talker winced just to have a hat brushed across his butt. He had no cheeks for padding. He was so flat there it was a wonder he didn't break something landing like he did.
A Hop, Skip and a Jump (Family Law Book 4) Page 18
