Freedom's Landing

I mean, holes with floors so they wouldn't leak?"

"Why?"

"Well, they'd make a self-contained stew pot. Fill one with water, then drop in clean heated stones. That'd boil the water and whatever else you had in it." "It would?"

"I haven't done it, but the theory's sound. A pot's only something you can move around' "What heathen country did you get that from?" Kris laughed. "The old Irish used to do that. I saw the places in the south of Ireland, great tourist attractions. The guide swore that was what field workers used when they didn't want to trek all the way back to their homes."

"Well, I never," Sandy said and went off, cocking her head this way and that.

"Hey, gal, you made it up," a cheerful voice said and Kris looked up from the animal she had just eviscerated to see Jay Greene making his way to her. He had a brace of avians in each hand. From the angle of their heads, their necks had been broken.

"Hi, Jay. Say, just how are these things being caught, or killed?" "Snares work as well on this planet as any other," he said, looking pleased. "Probably better. Fortunately for me, these fowls are stupider'n turkeys and will eat anything edible, especially ration bar crumbs."

"You know about snares?"

"Semper paratus", as the boy scouts used to say," he said modestly. "I worked one out and Mitford showed us how to use a slingshot. A crack shot, too." He was properly respectful. "Haven't got any elastic but, with a little practice and the right ffick of the wrist, you can aim pretty accurate. The rock-squatters haven't got sense enough to be scared so they sit there and die young! Hey, you're pretty good with that knife!"

"Yeah, I am," she said blithely. "Yours next?" She reached for his burden while she honed the tip of her knife on the rock of her table.

"Yes, ma'am," he said and, pretending extreme caution as she sharpened, deposited the bodies on the other side of her table.

The heat of the sun made her stop, mop her sweaty forehead on her sleeve and realize that she'd been working steadily for long enough to get a crick in her neck and more blood than she liked on her coverall.

Blood always attracted insects. At least on Earth and Barevi it had.

She finished the rock squat she was currently cleaning and stood up, taking the result to the next in the line of preparation.

"I want a wash, a drink and some time off," she told Sandy.

Sandy gave her directions to find the underground lake. More torches had been installed, so the way was lit well enough to keep Kris from stumbling down the uneven levels of the path. When she reached the end she saw the viny rope with knots in it to help you shinny up.

Peering over the edge, she saw that there was sand to cushion the shock of the jump which was roughly two metres down. The torch showed her the imperceptible movement of the water flowing past this point.

But she remembered that stillish waters could run deep. Sandy hadn't told her not to dunk herself in but she also hadn't said she could.

She bellied down to the edge of the water and took a quick sip: it had a soda-ish aftertaste but it wasn't bad. She buried her face in the water then, sucking in a longer drink. That was when the desire to be rid of the sweat and dirt of the past few days became irresistible.

Kris was prudent enough to see if the vine rope reached far enough into the water so she could hang on to it for her bath. It did. She sloughed off the wrap-around boots and the coverall and, keeping the vine rope in one hand, eased herself into the water. It was cold, no doubt about that, but it felt so good. She gave herself as thorough a scrub as she could with one hand - and no soap - in probably the fastest bath she'd ever taken. Using her blanket, she dried herself as well as she could with the non-absorbent material and rinsed out the bloodied sleeves of her coverall and the front of it where blood had spattered. She was back in her clothes, despite the dampness, and putting on the boots when she heard voices nearing. She hauled herself up to the top and started back, much refreshed by the respite.

She kept close to the right-hand wall as the group descending passed her.

"We gotta keep hold of that rope," one of the men was saying, "cos the current's fast according to the Cat."

"God, what I wouldn't give for a razor!"

"Sharpen your knife, buddy," someone else said with a laugh. "That's what pioneers did." When Kris found her way back to her sleeping place she saw that Patti Sue was the only one there, and still asleep. She dithered to herself about bringing some food back and making sure the girl ate, but maybe sleep was more important. The way the hunters had been bringing in game there'd be some for her when she did wake up.

Only how long would the game remain stupid enough to hang around and die? There were a lot of people to be fed.

That was when she heard a lot of noisy shouting and glad cries.

She made her way to the main cave again and tried to figure out what all the shouting was about.