Freedom's Landing

"Who made you boss, Mitford?" a male voice demanded irritably.

"You did!" Mitford jerked out his chin and glared in the direction.

Kris thought the voice sounded like the same one that had protested including aliens. She wondered if it was Arnie the weasel-faced but on second thought, Arnie wouldn't have the guts to speak up about anything. He was the kind to go behind your back. And steal a sleeping girl's ration.

"You want the job? Have it!" He made as if to leave the bonfire.

There was immediate loud and vehement protest from human voices and, Kris was glad to hear, a waving of arms and hands from the Deskis and Rugarians.

"I've had years of knowing how to get even more illassorted bunches of bods working together than you possibly could, buddy-' and Mitford's tone made that noun a dirty epithet, "so unless you can beat my twenty-seven years - fifteen of them as a master sergeant - close your mouth hole. Anybody else got some complaints about how I run this chicken-shit outfit? No? Well, that shows you've some sense upstairs.

I don't like the assignment any more than you do. But I took it on and I'll see it through until we know what's what on this planet. So listen up now.

"We've got a base camp but we need to check out the area so we don't get any surprises. We weren't the only ones dropped, you know, and some might like to move into our own choice piece of suburban development." That provoked some laughter. "Not much, right now. and his pause suggested that he had many improvements in mind, so there were a few groans. "But we'll do well-if we're let alone. So, two points…" and he held up his fingers, "first, we have sentries with their eyes open round the clock, even if we weren't issued one.

Second, when you hear me or a sentry bawling RED ALERT," and he cupped his hands round his mouth and roared the phrase, the sounds reverberating even as the people nearest him flinched back, with sheepish grins, "you come running as fast as you can, knives ready for action.

Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty, my friends," and his expression became very solemn. "We lost out back on Earth but you may be damned sure I don't intend to lose out here. When we were dropped on that field, we got liberated again and I intend to stay that way and alive!

So, any time you hear RED ALERT, whaddya do?" He cocked his head, hand to his ear - "We come running, Daddy," the wit from the shadows beyond the fire yelled.

"You better believe it! We also got to stay healthy so that means latrines, and they need digging where we haven't found long drop holes.

And throw in some sand every time you go. Keeps the smell down. We need hunters out every morning and we need volunteers to try foods and others to cook "em. I talked to a lot of you on the way here but now I need to know which of you have specialist training, like medics or chemistry or even survival courses. Everyone's going to work at something here to make this go. And I don't want any bitching about takilig your turn at the dirty jobs. You'll be rotated. Now, you individuals with special training that I haven't had a chance to talk to, come to this side of the fire when this meeting's over.

You hunters, get your assignments from this Rugarian - he calls himself Slav - and he's got the best throwing arm I've seen since Lou Gehrig "Sarge, you weren't born when Lou Gehrig pitched -" some wit yelled.

"Nope, but I sure saw enough footage on him in his prime. So hunters with Slav. I'll need more scouting parties tomorrow, so if you want some exercise. and there were guffaws at that, "…see Zainal here."

"You trusting that Cat?"

"Until hell freezes over," Mitford said in a tone that brooked absolutely no argument. "He got dumped here just like the rest of us and I'm not brave enough to ask him why.

Again a ripple of surprise but Mitford went on. "I want twenty individuals to make another run to get more grain lemme see a few hands before I volunteer you." The hands were raised, far more than twenty.

"Now, one last thing. There're more males than females. Some of our women got raped by the Catteni. We're humans! No-one bothers a woman in this camp. -, At the first mention of rape, Patti Sue moaned and tried to burrow into Kris. She was trembling all over as Kris put a protective and reassuring arm about her.

"What about a gal raping one of us?" the same wit called, and got snarling reactions from the women nearest him.

"If that kinda rape's inevitable, relax and enjoy it buddy," a woman's voice called out, a distinctly bitter and contemptuous edge to her words.

"I'll personally stake out any man forcing a woman," Mitford said, holding up his big and capable hands. "The same goes for any female dick-teasing." He paused a beat and then gave a wry grin, "That is, if anyone has any energy for anything after a long day here."

"You see, Patti Sue," Kris murmured soothingly, patting the nervous hands clenching and unclenching on her arm, "and he means it.

"He can mean it, but what if "No what-ifs, Patti Sue," Kris said as firmly as she could. But Mitford's call for explorers would give her the freedom to leave this clinging vine tomorrow and do something more noteworthy than gutting squatters.