Part 3 (1/2)
I got a couple. Mostly though, I thought I ought to make these plants ready to send out to the other villages, and see if while we're sendin' folk around, they could collect starts from other places.”
”I was just commenting that we'll have a longer than usual growing season,'' Sean said.
”Prob'ly,” Clodagh said. ”Unless Petaybee has other ideas.”
Bunny poked her head in the door. ”Slainte, Uncle Sean. Slainte, Yana and Clodagh. For cat's sakes, Clodagh, don't most people garden outside?”
”Only some of this is for my garden, Bunka. The rest will be presents. But right now, help me clean this up or there won't be room for anybody to stand when the rest of the village gets here.”
”Okay. C'mon, Diego,” the girl said. Diego stepped shyly inside. In one hand was a piece of wood, in the other a knife. He closed and pocketed the knife and set the billet down by the door.
”It's very considerate of you to bring your own firewood, lad, but I'm not usin' so much these days as to need it.”
”That's going to be his guitar,” Bunny said.
”Oh, really?” Clodagh asked, widening her eyes in mild query.
”Only part of it,” Diego said. At sixteen, he was a shy dark boy with beautiful eyes and an unruly lock of black hair that kept falling over them. When he had first come to Petaybee, he'd suffered from the skin blemishes common to young adolescents, but the planet's dry air had cleared them up. His voice had already changed to a most satisfactory baritone, and he was rapidly becoming gorgeous. ”This wood-Uncle Seamus said it was well-seasoned cedar-probably will be good for the neck. I haven't found anything for the body, but . . .”
”The planet will come up with something, don't you worry,” Clodagh told him, beaming up at him with that wide sunny smile that, along with the cascade of wavy black hair now tied back with a thong, was her other greatest beauty. ”Come now, give me a hand.”
From the doorway came another familiar voice. ”I can take some of those outside for you now, Clodagh, if you're ready.”
Yana turned to see the eminent Dr. Whittaker Fiske, major company stockholder and board member, sticking a hammer back in the heavy webbed belt he wore strapped over dark gray fatigue pants. Clodagh's bone-knit medicine and the modern ministrations available to company elite had, in the last six weeks, largely healed his broken arm and injured leg: now he merely wore a light bandage for support and walked with the slightest of limps. He wore a navy blue rib-knit sweater and a matching light stocking cap rather rakishly perched over one ear and stood with his hands on his hips, grinning widely and looking immensely pleased with himself.
”Dr. Fiske!” Yana exclaimed. ”How'd you get here?”
”Walked,” he said. ”Great therapy, walking. I used to walk the hills around Trondheim all the time when I was stationed back on Earth. Takes years off you.”
Sean cast a sidelong glance at Fiske, though his own smile didn't leave his face. He knew the doctor well enough to know he was on the side of Petaybee, but Whit Fiske was, nevertheless, an outsider in the employ of the opposition. If Clodagh had no problem with him, Yana hardly thought anyone else would object, but there was tension in the air that hadn't been present before.
”Dr. Fiske,” Yana said, taking his arm, ”I had no idea you were so handy.”
”We world builders are versatile men,” he said.
”There was a little matter I wanted to discuss with you privately,” she said.
”After the meeting then,” he told her, rather to her surprise. He patted her hand and disengaged her arm. ”Clodagh asked me particularly to stay. If I am going to represent the company interest in utilizing Petaybee's a.s.sets to the fullest while maintaining the integrity of the planet and the autonomy of the inhabitants, then I need to be working with the locals on every aspect of the operation.”
”Well, if Clodagh feels that it's a good idea and you don't think it's a conflict of interests . . .” Yana said. ”In that case, can you help secure enough fuel to get a plane to the southern pole?”
”I think I could do that, yes,-he said, with a wink over his shoulder as he went to give Clodagh a hand to get to her feet.
Bunny and Diego cleared all the seedlings to the sides of the room just before people began steadily to arrive and crowd into Clodagh's tiny house, twenty squeezing into a s.p.a.ce that would comfortably accommodate about a dozen. Clodagh explained to the villagers what the cats had imparted to her. n.o.body questioned her, being accustomed to Clodagh and knowing that her information tended to be reliable, however she got it.
”So,” she said. ”I think maybe it would be good if we started off in big groups together. Then folks can break off as we reach the villages they want to get to. When we've done what we've set out to do, we can join up again on the way back. That way if anybody gets lost or gets into some kind of trouble, there'll be somebody to notice.”
The crowd voiced a.s.sent.
Sinead said, ”Aisling and I will take Shannonmouth, since there's trading we want to do there anyway.”
”I can't believe McGee's Pa.s.s is going against us,” Bunny said. ”Remember how grateful the Connellys were to you, Clodagh, when you sent them that medicine for their dogs? After the dogs got well, they drove all the way up here to bring you that parka Iva Connelly made for you.”
”That was a few years ago, Bunka, back before they got the new shanachie,” Clodagh reminded her.
”That shouldn't change grat.i.tude any! I promise I'll be very respectful of the new shanachie, just like I was with old McConachie. I'd like Diego to meet the Connellys and, anyway, they'd be the best ones in McGee's Pa.s.s to tell us what's going on.”
Clodagh paused. Sending youngsters to one of the trouble spots worried her until Sean said, ”Yana and I will go with them and then on to Harrison's Fjord. I'd like Buneka to join us there, so she can see the place where Aoifa and Mala began their expedition.”
”Good.''
The other a.s.signments were made. Liam Maloney agreed to go to Deadhorse, then chanted a new song about the death of his mother while she was away from the planet being questioned by Intergal.
”Dog-woman, snow-woman, run-with-the-wind-woman Mother-woman with the steaming springs Streaming in her veins Woman to whom the birds sang Woman whose voice was soft with snow Woman so warm, so warm No ice could freeze her No avalanche stop her breath ”Her feet were stilled when they left the ground.
Her breath was stopped in closed rooms Where the wind never blows She turned cold in hot rooms Her steaming blood all bubbled away Her voice stilled where no birds sang Only the croaking of carrion-crows.
Aijijai.”
During the recital Liam had looked straight ahead, his eyes closed, his mouth twisting around the words with a mixture of tenderness and bitterness. When he finished his song and his eyes opened, they were full of pain and defiance, and when his mouth closed, his jaw set tightly.
Diego glanced down and away, and Yana saw that Bunny was holding his hand in a fierce, comforting grip. One of Lavelle's last guide jobs, the one she was being questioned about when she died, had been to rescue Diego and his father from a blizzard. Diego had become very close to Lavelle during the trip and resented her unnecessary death almost as much as her family did.
'That is a good song, Liam,” Eamon Intiak said. ”I have one I'm making to sing to everyone about how the company men s.n.a.t.c.hed us up from the Earth and put us on Petaybee because they wanted our lands on Earth and now they want to take Petaybee.”
”Wait a minute, son,” Whit Fiske said, standing apart from Clodagh for a moment. His chin was raised a little defensively as he spoke, although his tone was as genial as ever. ”I think most of you know me and know that I have a lot of feeling for what you folks are up against. But the company is a fact of life here, and let's not make it worse than it is already.”
''You just say that because your granddad put us here Liam accused.
”No, son, I don't.”
”I'm not your son. Your people killed my mother.”
”His name is Liam Maloney, Whit,” Clodagh said.
”Thanks, Clodagh. No offense intended, Mr. Maloney. You're partly right. My grandfather was partially responsible for choosing Petaybee to Terraform, and for the process that made the planet fit to live on, but he didn't actually put anybody here. The resettling was done by another branch of the company. And yes, they had certain ulterior motives: at the time, those lands on Earth were very much prime real estate. But there were other reasons, too. So, before you folks decide the company is responsible for all your troubles, I think a little reminder of historical fact is needed. Does anybody have any idea what I'm talking about?”
Yana groaned inwardly. Fiske, with what she was sure were good intentions, had put his foot squarely in his mouth. For a diplomatic man, he had lousy timing. People here didn't read and write, and their songs tended to be about personal events or about the conditions they survived on the planet: at least, she'd never heard any historical ballads. Should she speak up and give Fiske some support?
Would it do any good? She wasn't a native Petaybean, either.
”You're talking about the War for Unification, Whit?” Sean asked.
”Among others,” Whittaker answered, trying not to show how relieved he was. ”Half the ancestors of those here in Kilcoole would have died if we hadn't evacuated to Petaybee the faction they were part of-the ones who were getting their a.s.ses kicked.”
”And those doing the kicking?” Bunny asked, c.o.c.king her head in a semi-critical fas.h.i.+on.