thorn bush. Here." He tossed his spare beer pouch over his shoulder. "Think fast! Good catch."
A guitar twanged nonsensically, then produced a tune Cadmann had not heard since his youth. Mamie McInnes played while Barney Car and her husband, Jerry, sang with good-natured tonelessness. Two much better voices dominated the choruses from somewhere on the far side of the fire: Ernst and La Donna Stewart.
Phyllis danced for her own pleasure, for the colonists, and most especially for Hendrick, who watched her with pride and hunger.
Carolyn watched for a few seconds, then humphed and stamped off.
Carlos watched Phyllis for a dozen bars, examining her movement with the eye of a master sculptor inspecting a block of marble. "She is good, that one," he said offhandedly. "She must learn the real flamenco technique."
"And you'll be glad to teach her."
"But of course."
"Go for it. Talk to Hendrick though. She may need a teacher, but he definitely needs a sparring partner."
"Sparring partner? No comprendo."
"Hendrick Sills was Golden Gloves middleweight champ about six years before we left Earth. Bet he'd love to discuss it with you."
"On the other hand..."
Cadmann ambled over to the roasting pit.
Spicy meat smells rose from the grill. Much of the food was reconstituted, pouched and freeze-dried and soaked in water or wine-but there were two chickens and a turkey. Cadmann imagined he had known from the smell.
Morale must be worse than I thought if Zack authorized this burnt offering. Lost crops and too much work.
Thornwood logs made excellent coals when hot enough. The oily wood smoldered with a tantalizing hickory scent that blended nicely with the moist breeze from the ocean. Twin moonglades danced in the surf.
Sylvia poked in the grill with a long metal skewer. She glanced to her left where Terry was eating. He wasn't half finished. "Almost done. Cad." She turned the samlon steak. Even this cross section of the creature was queer, unearthly. The meat was pink like salmon, but two big arteries showed alongside its heavy spine-for heavier gravity-and the shape showed its flattened belly and strong bones.
"Big enough for two, Cad. Another minute."
"Sure." He sat beside her. "Hi."
"Hi yourself. I thought you might not come."
"So you sent Terry to fetch me."
"Sure." She speared a samlon. "Just right. Share?"
"Love to."
She hoisted it up and nibbled at it, and sputtered as she burned her mouth. Cadmann couldn't help laughing at the face she made. She looked serious, pointed toward the stars, and when he looked up, stuffed one of the hottest portions into his mouth. "Laugh at me, will you?"
"Molten metal, molten metal-you do know the punishment for witches, Esmeralda."
"Sure, they hanged her goat. But Charles Laughton will give me sanctuary. Have some more."
He held up his hands in protest. "No, thanks. My tongue would never forgive me." But the first fragment had cooled, and it tasted fine. Taste of salmon, texture of... what? It wasn't flaky like fish. Beef heart? Striated, no fat...
She jabbed the second portion at him again, and he splashed some sand at it. "Get that poor dead thing away from me before I spank you."
Her eyes sparkled. "You..." Terry was close behind her, close enough that she fell silent, smiled and went back to tending the sizzling barbecue. Terry watched her go, then sat next to her with his cooling plate of canned vegetables. He stared across the sea.
Ernst and La Donna stood up from where they'd been eating, buried turkey bones into the dark and walked after them. Ernst waved cheerfully as they passed. Cadmann smiled but didn't wave; he could see La Donna's sudden embarrassment.
Good. Salvage those good genes. La Donna! With luck the kids would look like Ernst, too. La Donna was nice, but plain.
Cadmann moved to the edge of the magic circle of light, away from the others. The waves seemed vast inky shapes, rolling up and thrashing themselves into foam on the sand. There were shrieks of
A guitar twanged nonsensically, then produced a tune Cadmann had not heard since his youth. Mamie McInnes played while Barney Car and her husband, Jerry, sang with good-natured tonelessness. Two much better voices dominated the choruses from somewhere on the far side of the fire: Ernst and La Donna Stewart.
Phyllis danced for her own pleasure, for the colonists, and most especially for Hendrick, who watched her with pride and hunger.
Carolyn watched for a few seconds, then humphed and stamped off.
Carlos watched Phyllis for a dozen bars, examining her movement with the eye of a master sculptor inspecting a block of marble. "She is good, that one," he said offhandedly. "She must learn the real flamenco technique."
"And you'll be glad to teach her."
"But of course."
"Go for it. Talk to Hendrick though. She may need a teacher, but he definitely needs a sparring partner."
"Sparring partner? No comprendo."
"Hendrick Sills was Golden Gloves middleweight champ about six years before we left Earth. Bet he'd love to discuss it with you."
"On the other hand..."
Cadmann ambled over to the roasting pit.
Spicy meat smells rose from the grill. Much of the food was reconstituted, pouched and freeze-dried and soaked in water or wine-but there were two chickens and a turkey. Cadmann imagined he had known from the smell.
Morale must be worse than I thought if Zack authorized this burnt offering. Lost crops and too much work.
Thornwood logs made excellent coals when hot enough. The oily wood smoldered with a tantalizing hickory scent that blended nicely with the moist breeze from the ocean. Twin moonglades danced in the surf.
Sylvia poked in the grill with a long metal skewer. She glanced to her left where Terry was eating. He wasn't half finished. "Almost done. Cad." She turned the samlon steak. Even this cross section of the creature was queer, unearthly. The meat was pink like salmon, but two big arteries showed alongside its heavy spine-for heavier gravity-and the shape showed its flattened belly and strong bones.
"Big enough for two, Cad. Another minute."
"Sure." He sat beside her. "Hi."
"Hi yourself. I thought you might not come."
"So you sent Terry to fetch me."
"Sure." She speared a samlon. "Just right. Share?"
"Love to."
She hoisted it up and nibbled at it, and sputtered as she burned her mouth. Cadmann couldn't help laughing at the face she made. She looked serious, pointed toward the stars, and when he looked up, stuffed one of the hottest portions into his mouth. "Laugh at me, will you?"
"Molten metal, molten metal-you do know the punishment for witches, Esmeralda."
"Sure, they hanged her goat. But Charles Laughton will give me sanctuary. Have some more."
He held up his hands in protest. "No, thanks. My tongue would never forgive me." But the first fragment had cooled, and it tasted fine. Taste of salmon, texture of... what? It wasn't flaky like fish. Beef heart? Striated, no fat...
She jabbed the second portion at him again, and he splashed some sand at it. "Get that poor dead thing away from me before I spank you."
Her eyes sparkled. "You..." Terry was close behind her, close enough that she fell silent, smiled and went back to tending the sizzling barbecue. Terry watched her go, then sat next to her with his cooling plate of canned vegetables. He stared across the sea.
Ernst and La Donna stood up from where they'd been eating, buried turkey bones into the dark and walked after them. Ernst waved cheerfully as they passed. Cadmann smiled but didn't wave; he could see La Donna's sudden embarrassment.
Good. Salvage those good genes. La Donna! With luck the kids would look like Ernst, too. La Donna was nice, but plain.
Cadmann moved to the edge of the magic circle of light, away from the others. The waves seemed vast inky shapes, rolling up and thrashing themselves into foam on the sand. There were shrieks of
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