Grantville Gazette 36 gg-36

by Paula Goodlett

  "No problem," Gerbald said confidently.

  The dodos, having determined that these three humans were today's most promising food source, followed them as they left the shore for the interior, encouraged along the way by frequent treats.

  "I have heard these dodos are supposed to be quite foolish," Pers mused. "But they don't really seem so to me. They always seem to know who has food and who is likely to give them some!" He chuckled as a dodo gingerly took the nut he offered with its massive beak, its yellow eyes bright with what Pam took for pleasure.

  "We have made them into terrible beggars," Gerbald added. "I wonder if it was situations such as this that helped lead to their extinction back in that other world you came from, Pam. The dodos getting used to people and coming around for handouts until one day they find themselves in the stew pot."

  "Well, based on what we have observed, it all fits. It was very selfish of me to give them food just so they would sit still for a portrait. No true wildlife scientist ever baits their subjects. I feel awful that here I am trying to save them and put this flock in more danger instead." Pam's face drew down in a deep frown.

  "Now, now Pam, you mustn't think that way!" Gerbald told her, knowing that it would be best for them all if he could improve her mood quickly. "No one else on the planet cares about these creatures as much as you do and ultimately it will be you who prevent their loss in this world. I am confident in your abilities."

  "As am I!" Pers chimed in "You will save the dodos Pam, it is your destiny!" Pers' exuberant sureness in her made Pam laugh, the frowns forgotten for now.

  "Well, it feels like we're making progress again. Maybe we can still give the dodos their second chance."

  "Come along you, second chance birds!" Pers called happily, starting to walk up the trail with the dodos in tow, waving a banana in his hand like a parade baton. Several of the larger birds crowded around in front of him, stretching their necks up after the banana and blocking his way up the path. Pers eventually had to push past them and scowled at the insistent birds. "Argh, you stupid creatures! I take back the nice things I said. You are too greedy!" Pam and Gerbald enjoyed a silent smirk at the youth's expense, they had both had the same thing happen to them after all.

  Soon enough they were sorted out and on their way again. After conferring with their most experienced woodsman, Gerbald, they decided to lead the dodos to a similar, but different part of the forest than they had found them in. Hopefully the dodos would be disoriented by the purposefully convoluted journey. Better yet, if the same kind of foraging were available in the new territory, the ever-hungry birds would be distracted enough to make finding the beach again not worth the bother. Reaching the top of the first rise a couple of miles from camp, they looked back to see the junk sailing around in a tight circle out in the bay, the small forms of the sailors running about her decks like angry ants beneath the red sails.

  "Shhhh, listen!" Pam told her companions as she leaned on her walking stick and pointed toward the obviously misbehaving ship. The wind was blowing inland and even at that distance it carried a faint stream of curses from the bosun. She put a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing.

  "Sounds like they are having a wonderful time," Gerbald whispered, unable to keep from chuckling at the foul language. "The bosun could make a career of the opera. His voice certainly carries well."

  Pers gazed at the humorous scene with a wistful expression on his face even though he chuckled along with Gerbald. Pam saw this and knew something was still eating the kid, she vowed to find out before the day was done.

  ****

  The temperature grew uncomfortably hot as noon approached. The near-daily rains seemed to have spilled themselves dry for a spell but Pam suspected they would be back. Today it felt like high West Virginia summer here in the Tropic of Capricorn and they were grateful when they finally entered the moist depths of the forest. The shade of the great trees was a cooling balm. The dodos became excited, scuttling through the underbrush and squawking in what sounded like happy tones to Pam. She sighed despite the pleasure at escaping the too bright sun, remembering that back in her original century Mauritius had lost nearly all of its original vegetation through rampant logging and uncontrolled agriculture. Not this time,shevowed. The colonists agreed to follow the modern sustainability practices I researched. We can't let that happen again! then another darker possibility entered her mind. It will only work if my colonists are still alive. She pushed the thought away. She knew better than to start stacking up her cares too high; it just made her feel overwhelmed. One step at a time she reminded herself and breathed deeply to help keep herself calm.

  To further distract herself from her endless list of cares, Pam set about identifying what trees that she could. While Grantville had by no means contained a plethora of information on such a remote place, Pam had found out quite a bit about the Mascarenes in her studies, surprisingly more than she had thought she would. She spoke aloud as she led them across the forest floor, sharing the knowledge with her companions.

  "Let's see, what tree have we here! I think this is Foetidia mauritiana. It's named for the strong smell of its oil. Straight trunk, gray bark, a bit of red in the leaves. I'm pretty sure that's it. This fellow over here must be Diospyros tessellaria, one of the ebony trees. It's nearly twenty meters high, black bark, long glossy leaves. If we are careful and harvest its wood wisely, we can make a lot of money for the colony. It's perfect for piano keys and from what I've seen there's going to be a booming business in those things back in the USE."

  "It's beautiful," Pers commented, gently running his fingers across the bark. "I've always hated cutting down trees, but I know we must sometimes."

  Pam favored the youth with a beatific smile. "A necessary evil. If things go our way we will protect a great many trees, such as these here, and those that we do harvest, we will replace with new. That way we can have wood for generations to come instead of just lopping them all down and leaving nothing for later, as so many fools have. That's what happened in my other history, here and a lot of other places before people wised up to the concept of sustainability. Even once we knew better, far too many people continued clear cutting, only interested in what they could get for themselves, not about the future. It was awful. We made our world ugly and sick."

  Gerbald nodded his solemn agreement. "There are many hunters in the Germanies such as myself who would see it done in your way. But every year the forests shrink. Unfortunately, greed usually wins and the trees come down. There will be no animals left to hunt if it continues."

  "Well," Pam said with a sigh, "and I do hate to say this, it's probably already too late to save much of what's left of Germany's old growth forests. In an ideal world, the arrival of Grantville might have slowed things like uncontrolled logging down. But from what I see, most of us Americans are dancing around the fires of industry as if they were the Golden Calf. The people concerned with the ecological impact of our early-industrial revolution I can count on one hand, starting with me."

  "Well, that's a start," Gerbald said. "If you add me, you will have six. As a hunter, I'd like to see the Thuringerwald preserved. Surely we can do better."

  "And I seven!" Pers chimed in. "I don't believe that when God gave man dominion over the Earth He intended for us to destroy all in our path, yet I have seen such in every port. It is shameful."

  Pam's eyebrows rose high on her forehead at such an erudite statement from their young Gilligan. Pers, though still in many ways a carefree youth, was paying attention to the world around him. Her fondness for the boy deepened and she allowed herself a bit of pride in knowing that she had played a significant role in his education. She gave them both a big smile as she sat down on a large round rock to take a breather.

  "Well, looks like I've made two converts to the Pam Miller Tree Hugging Society. A good start indeed." After taking a quick look around to make sure the dodos weren't close by, she reached into her pocket to pull out the shaved coconut, dried
fruit and nut gorp trail mix she had brought along and carefully unwrapped its banana leaf container so as not to spill it.

  "Here, help yourselves!" she invited her companions, lifting her open hand up in offering. Pers and Gerbald both took a step forward but then stopped, eyes wide. Even though neither of them were anywhere near her palm she felt a pressure there and heard what could only be a chewing sound. Shifting her eyes to her hand she was stunned to see a very strange face; a wide beak of a nose shaped like a rounded ship's prow with two holes for nostrils beneath which a wide, lip-less mouth was chewing gorp. Dark, liquid eyes regarded her calmly from behind droopy lids set in thick, scaly gray skin. This startling visage was at the end of a very long neck that snaked down into a horn-like saddle.

  To her credit Pam didn't panic, successfully conquering her first instinct to flee screaming. If she had been in any real danger Gerbald would have taken care of it by now anyway with his warrior's reflexes, long before she could react. The creature was obviously harmless.

  "What is it?" Pers asked in a hushed tone.

  "It must be a dinosaur!" Gerbald answered, laughing with delight.

  Pam felt the large "rock" beneath her shift slightly as the long-necked creature took another gentle mouthful of trail mix. Looking down she could see that she sat on the smooth, green-gray plates of its wide shell.

  "Gentlemen," she announced with some bravado, "meet the giant Mascarene tortoise. I remember reading about them and wondering why they weren't as well known as the Galapagos version. The answer was, of course, that they had become extinct along with the dodo, but the dodo got the starring role in the tragedy."

  "The dodo is a most engaging creature," Gerbald said. "But this fellow has personality as well. I am a hunter by nature but I confess I wouldn't be able to kill such a soulful-eyed beast unless I was in great need of food."

  "Yeah, he's pretty cute, huh?" Pam carefully slid off her living seat to kneel beside the placid creature, offering it more gorp which it took daintily from her palm with a wide, blueish-hued tongue. "Unfortunately a lot of hungry people who aren't as kind as you will end up here in the years to come, unless we get in control of things first." Pam gently stroked the tortoise's shell. "This must be the saddle-backed version. They were . . . or, I'm pleased to say . . . are inhabitants of the forests, adapted to stretch their necks up in search of leaves and fruit. There's another closely-related type with a shorter neck and rounder shell that live in the grasslands." Pam gave the tortoise the last of her gorp as she rubbed it gently on its scaly skull, which it seemed to like. Its heavy-lidded eyes half closed in delight.

  After a long minute of deep thought, Pam stood up and looked at her friends. Her face was pale in the arboreal shadows and filled with cares.

  "Ya know, guys, sometimes it just seems like too much. This island is so complex, we are barely scratching the surface of understanding how these ecologies work and now we are introducing human settlers even earlier than they came here in my other history. I hope I've made the right decisions. I hope I can make all this work. It's really a lot on my plate. Sometimes I just feel overwhelmed." Her shoulders were slumped and she looked at the tortoise with a helpless expression.

  "Pam, you must not forget that we are with you in this. You do not face these burdens alone," Gerbald told her. "Can you not see that myself and Dore, this fine lad Pers, the bosun, and all the men of the Redbird support you? You carry too much on your shoulders. We lend you our strength. Please, take it."

  Pam took a deep breath before speaking in a low, but controlled tone. "I know you do. I'm stupid for forgetting it. It's just that sometimes I get scared by my new life here. If you had seen me back up-time in Grantville you wouldn't have recognized me. I was a failure as a wife, as a mother . . . it seemed like no matter how hard I tried nothing worked. The only thing I ever got right was science, so I got some education and went to work, and that helped, but now I'm not a lab tech. I'm the lead scientist. I'm the one who has to make the big decisions and it's freaking me out! I feel like I hold the lives of all these living creatures, the lives of all these people who came here with me, in my hands. And so far I've sucked at it." She had started calmly but by the end of her words her voice was freighted with emotion.

  Pers had a good grasp of up-time American English vernacular, thanks more to Gerbald's wise-cracks than Pam's lessons and knew what "sucked"' meant.

  "Pam, you do not suck. I can assure you none of we Swedes think that. We admire you. We think of you as the brave lady, our wise woman, a warrior! You must not think of yourself in such a bad way, please. Listen to Herr Gerbald! We will all help you succeed!" There was no mistaking the deep concern and sincerity in Pers' young voice.

  Pam visibly pulled herself together, rubbing her flushed face and clearing flyaway locks from her brow. She nodded, favored them each with a tiny but sweet smile, gave the giant tortoise a final pat on the head, then turned and started walking. Pers and Gerbald watched her go, giving her the time and space she had silently asked them for. After a minute Gerbald clapped a still worried Pers companionably on the back. "Well done, my boy."

  Pers stood tall, feeling as if he had just been knighted.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Farewells and Beginnings

  Pam's mood improved as they left the gloom of the forest behind and began the ascent into higher country. The sun was still bright but there was a cool breeze dancing across the rocks and shrubs that made the afternoon light bearable. Gerbald and Pers picked their own paths nearby. They traveled in a silence that would be up to her to break, but not just yet. She paused, looking back to see that the dodos had stopped at the edge of the forest. Apparently the open hillsides were not to their liking or maybe the long walk had tuckered out their stocky legs.

  This was good-bye to the flock that Pam had gotten to know so well. They would return by a different path so the birds wouldn't follow them back to the perils of the beach. She took a long, last look, a kind of mental photograph she was sure she would never forget. In her heart she had a comforting feeling that it wouldn't really be the last time she would see these birds. Satisfied, Pam gave the dodos a smile and a farewell wave then turned away to continue her climb up the gentle slopes of Coffee Mountain. A mile or so later she looked back once more and the dodos were gone, returned to their former life hunting for nuts and grubs amongst the great trees of this innocent island paradise. Pam envied them.

  Upon reaching the top, Pam opened the picnic lunch she and Dore had concocted, which included a small flask of rum to celebrate with.

  "Come and get it, fellas!" she called as she lay the offerings out on a broad, flat boulder conveniently placed near the summit. They would enjoy their meal with a fabulous view. Somehow Dore had managed to bake a simple bread in her stone oven. They filled each loaf with crab meat, thinly sliced Barbel palm hearts, bamboo shoots, and a generous helping of spices and melted butter from Dore's larder. The results were delicious and Pers liked his so much that Pam gave him half of hers. The portions were more generous than she could handle anyway.

  Around them the lush, green mountains of the island's interior marched away into mists in the north. To the south they could see the sapphire sparkle of the sea. They passed the flask around while enjoying the spectacular view and then lay down in the soft grass to take a short nap before gathering their coffee beans. After an hour passed, Gerbald estimated it was around three in the afternoon. It would take them at least an hour to gather their beans as well as some young trees, then they would begin the long walk home, reaching camp at dusk. Time to get back to work.

  First, Pam gave Pers a lesson in coffee-bean picking. The trees bore a variety of ripe and unripe fruits, making it a bit tricky, but the youth was a quick study and was soon filling his sacks with the purple-yellow coffee beans faster than Pam and Gerbald could. Seeing his rapid progress, they turned their attention to bringing some young trees back alive. Gerbald had brought along a short spade from the Redbird's tool-chest, which made
the work go fairly fast. They placed the roots in moist canvas sacks surrounded by their native soil then wrapped the leaves in sailcloth to make the bundle easy to carry down the narrow forest trails.

  With all their bags and pockets once again bulging with beans they began the walk home.

  "Ugh. This stuff is heavier than I remember it." Pam groaned. Her shoulders already ached from the unaccustomed weight in her rucksack.

  "Well, you were about out of your mind with joy last time," Gerbald reminded her. "That must have made the burden feel lighter."

  "Now I think I'm just out of my mind," Pam muttered darkly.

  "Yes, I recall you pranced down the mountain like an alpine goat in spring." Gerbald chuckled, stifling a groan of his own at his heavy share of the burden. "I'm sure you will find it all worthwhile again, months from now when you still have coffee to drink," he added, trying to sound encouraging.

  "Here, Frau Pam, allow me to take some of this." Pers came beside her, reaching for the extra sacks she carried draped over her shoulders.

  "Naw, come on, I loaded you up like a pack mule, Pers. You're already carrying a lot more than your share, even taking the age difference into account. I know how strong you are but I don't want you to get injured."

  Pers grinned and took the sacks from her anyway, ignoring her protests. "Nonsense! This is nothing compared to the tortures the bosun has put me through. Believe me, as far as I am concerned, this is still a 'light duty'!"

  Pam gave him a grateful smile. "Well, at least it's all downhill from here," she said as brightly as she could manage. Pers stepped into the lead, walking with a spring in his stride that belied the many pounds of coffee he carried.

  Gerbald and Pam looked at each other, silently admitting that they were both already tired and had a long way to go yet.