Freedom's Landing

Chapter Four

Morning was not fun! Once again Kris ached in many places and knew that pebbles had moved under her during the night to make tender spots where she didn't need them. Patti was still flaked out when Kris rearranged the girl so she could get up. She had to go. She made her way down the hill to a boulder that had already been used for this purpose, although someone had had the courtesy to sprinkle dirt on what they'd done. She did the same. Greene was waiting for her with full cups of water.

"Gawd, what I wouldn't give for a cuppa coffee," he said, grinning at her over the rim of his cup.

"Never said a truer word," and Kris rather liked his grin.

Why was it she had to be dropped on this godforsaken planet before she met any decent fellas? She could notice a few more details about him, too. He looked awfully thin, and his hands showed lots of healed cuts and nicks and the palms, when he gestured, were heavily calloused.

"Did you really steal the commander's flitter?" Kris groaned. "I did but I wouldn't have if I'd known the sort of reprisals the Catteni would take.

"Don't distress yourself over that, ma'am," he said, grinning more broadly. "The very idea that one of us could, did, and had, gave us all heart."

"Except the ones who had long interviews with forcewhips." She shuddered, her back muscles writhing in sympathetic reaction. The two times she'd felt that sort of nerve-paralysing lash had been quite enough.

"The Cats looked for any excuse to intimidate us Terrans," Greene said. "We were more than they expected, in case you hadn't heard. Did they recapture you or something?"

"No," Kris said, drawling the negative out to emphasize her chagrin. "My timing was bad. I'd snuck a trip into the city just when the cruisers started spreading gas to quell that riot. And what was that riot about?"

"Oh, we tried to break up another one of their little discipline sessions. One thing led to another and we ended up a mob. No sense, no reason, just rush about breaking up anything to hand!" She nodded, finishing the last of her bar and licking her fingers.

Word was passed down to get a move on.

Patti Sue managed the morning on her own feet and then collapsed again. She apologized to the point that Kris was grinding her teeth not to snap at her. It was a little difficult to avoid the apologies and self-deprecations when the girl's lips were a few inches from her ear. Greene did what he could, chatting about this and that because his talking silenced Patti. His buddy was a Rugarian who said nothing, stopping and starting when Greene did, and was seemingly oblivious to every other stimulus.

"What were you back on good ol' Terra?" Kris asked, to while away the time.

"Aha, computer technician. So, of course, they had me digging, shovelling and sweeping on Barevi. At least they weren't prejudiced.

Anyone big got that duty." He made a muscle in his arm and pulled the coverall tight across it so she could admire the result. "Actually, it beats a sedentary life in front of a screen. I've never been this fit." And he cast a critical eye on Patti's frail body. "You're sure he began for the third time since lunch.

"I'm sure." Patti Sue had either fallen asleep or retreated into a comatose state. The only thing that reassured Kris was that her skin was cool, not hot with fever. She soldiered on. However, she told herself that next time buddies were assigned she was going to choose.

The afternoon became one long struggle to keep upright and put one foot in front of the other. They had to make three climbs up rockfaces… Kris did hope that Mitford had had accurate reports from his advance scouts, because she sure didn't want to come back down the last one. They'd had to rig a blanket sling to get the limp Patti Sue up it. Kris ended up with scraped shins and lost some fingertip skin.

The items that hadn't been in the Catteni survival crates were legion.

Decent gloves, pitons, rope, pickaxes, backpacks, a bar of chocolate were among those she dreamed of. Needles and thread!

Band Aids.

There were three falls, one broken leg. The Deskis, for all their fragile looks, had almost glided up the rockface.

That could be a useful skill, she thought, amazed that she could think of anything other than being able to continue walking.

When her courage was beginning to peter out into utter despair, the word was passed back that their destination had been reached by the first elements.

They'd had one? That amazed and heartened her.

When she got there, she didn't know it. One, she had stumbled and had to lean against the cliffside to steady herself. She'd had a terrifying, if brief, look at the drop she'd nearly plummeted down.

Two, she was too exhausted even to care that she would now be able to stop walking.

"I'll take her," a male voice said and the burden of Patti was lifted from her back.

Someone put a hand on her arm and led her from the cliff, pushing her head down so she wouldn't crack it on a low entryway. The darkness a few metres inside was suddenly alleviated by - of all things fires.

They didn't smell like fires should, but the rosy glow looked like the real thing. She later found out that Zainal had experimented with various types of wood, for lack of a proper description of the material he gathered from the vegetation, until he found a combustible substance.

He found other things, which included dried dung, to augment what "wood' could be gathered as they marched.

The dung smelt but it gave off heat and light which were essential.

Someone took her cup - she protested but before she could get violent about the matter, the cup was returned to her, full of water "Keep moving," she was told and a hand gently guided her in the direction she was supposed to go…a narrow path through outstretched legs and boots. She went left, then right, then left again as guided, and had her head pushed down to enter a smaller cave.

There was a small fire, one that didn't smell too badly, in a circle of glinting stones in the centre. Smoke went straight up and she tilted her head, nearly falling over backwards since her balance was as tired as the rest of her senses, but couldn't see the ceiling.

"Over here," and she was guided to one side of the fire where there weren't any legs or boots. "Sit." A gentle hand pressed down on her shoulder and, quite willing to obey, she sat.

When she felt someone fumbling with her blanket, she tried to push the hands away.

"Sleep in blanket." The odd phrasing caught her attention and she blinked to focus on the face in front of her. Zainal it was who was untying her blanket. No-one else was that big. That was all right then. She owed him. Or did he owe her?

"Lie down," he said, an order that she was only too happy to obey.

She worked her way down to a recumbent position and felt the blanket being tucked around her. What odd behaviour for a Cat… no, she must not shorten the name. Catteni. Maybe "Teni' would be less egregious than "Cat'?

That was the last thing she remembered for a very long time.

Mitford woke suddenly, his well-developed internal clock rousing him after his customary six hours' sleep. It was as dark as the inside of a pocket and it took him a moment to establish where he was. He rose cautiously to one elbow, identifying the sleeping forms around him: Taglione, Murphy, Dowdall, and yes, the dark mass of the big-shouldered Catteni.

Fit as Mitford tried to keep himself, apart from that enforced sleep on the prison ship, he felt some twinges from yesterday's exertions. Well, today would be another bitch and he'd better start it, what with all he had to do.

He berated himself once again for setting himself up in command of this chicken-shit outflt but who the hell else in this mis-assorted herd of humanity, and aliens, would have organized anything? It had made his blood boil to see them quibbling over how many knives they should get and who'd have the blanket concession. Just chance that he'd known a couple of the looters from being in the same barracks with them on Barevi, so he'd been able to inveigle their support with a hint and a bit of verbal persuasion. No need for anyone to get greedy over the goodies. There looked to be more than enough to go round. He couldn't stand greed and he hated bullying.

Some might not believe that, but it was the truth. So he'd waded in and got the supply situation organized to his satisfaction and doled out the hardware in an orderly fashion. He should have known one thing would lead to another. But no-one had contested his authority. Or them that had had taken themselyes off.

And hell's bells, after twenty-seven years in the Marines, he knew how to get a motley crew to act as a unit. He'd trained up enough raw recruits into good fighting men. Even women. Then he had a couple of advantages, too. For starters, everyone here had been taking orders they couldn't buck, so he'd just continue the practice, gradually easing them back into a more democratic government when he had everything suitably organized and independence was feasible. Right now, they'd better stick together and keep the useful aliens handy. He was glad to be rid of the Turs, sullen argumentative bastards, and the Morphins had always been difficult to deal with in the barracks at Barevi.

They'd taken themselves off, most of them, and that was fine by him. Humans he could handle any day of the week.

So, they were in a defensible position, even if he still didn't know what he might have to defend against. They had a good source of underground water in that cave lake his scouts had found. The Cat Mitford reproved himself - how he treated Zainal, the Catteni, would go a long way to establishing how most of the others would regard the alien. And if he wanted to make contact with the Catteni at a later date, he'd need someone in his ball park to hit the homers. Right now the only one available was Zainal. At any rate, Zainal had found time to hunt as he scouted ahead with Tag and Murph and had clubbed some local fauna. He proved it was edible by eating a hunk of it raw.

Mitford preferred his meat cooked but, to him, the gob which he had chewed and swallowed had tasted just like raw meat usually did. The critters just squatted on the rocks in droves or herds, didn't move when humans approached - which suggested to Mitford that they hadn't seen any humans to know to fear them - so they were dead easy to bring down.

So there was one source of protein to augment the ration bars.

Water, shelter, food. Not bad going for two days on a new world.

Mitford was optimistic, even though he rarely allowed himself that option.

He'd had a chance to talk to nearly a hundred or so men and women yesterday on the march and was much encouraged by the fact that quite a few had specialties that would be damned useful. Automatically his hands went to pockets where he usually kept pencil and pad.

Once again he cursed under his breath. A cup, a blanket, a knife and a hatchet were not much to work with. He'd had less when set loose on a survival course but he was accustomed to privations. This lot weren't. He missed paper and pencil. He was a visual man and conimitted facts to memory when he could first write them down.

Gerry Capstan had been a surveyor in the Colorado Park Service: he was sure they could find something to write with and he'd already seen slate along the rocky way Helluva way to write orders of the day, Mitford thought, but what the hell? The old granary foreman in Lubbock still used chalk and a slate as a notice-board for his drivers.

Murphy had been a machinist, knew welding, and he'd assured Mitford that all he needed was a decent hot fire to reshape some of those extra knives into a bevy of useful tools.

A woman near Murphy in the line of march perked up a bit when she heard the two men talking.

"I'm a potter…Sandy Areson. Yeah, I know what you're thinking," and she grinned at the dubious expression on Mitford's face, "arty-farty stuff you'd call what I used to produce but I know how to make up pitchers, mugs, plates and useful things. That is, if this planet has produced clay."

"We'll keep that in mind, Mitford said, knowing that something as simple as pitchers and plates could be a morale booster.

Now in the cool predawn, Mitford began to plan the day's activities. A good hot meal in everyone's belly would make them optimistic, too. So hunting was the first order of the day. A detailed search of the immediate area and the rest of the cave system was next. And torches were needed to light the corridors that had already been explored.

That herbal guy could see what he could find edible in the vegetable line. There might even be berries.

There were two miners and they could look for ore deposits.

He'd send out patrols, keep everyone busy, and Arnie could do latrines. That made him smile. And anyone who complained about anything would join Arnie in that duty. With so many people, proper hygiene was of prime necessity.

One of the few pluses was that they were all healthy: the ones who weren't had been left on the field.

He set about waking up men he had tagged the day before as those with some hunting experience back on Earth. He'd have them look out for any wood that could be made into bows, arrows and spears. And slingshots. Mitford grinned as he pulled on his boots.

He'd been a crack shot as a kid: could stun a jackrabbit at forty yards.

And what was the name of that paramedic? Ah, Matt Dargle. Damn, he'd be glad to have writing materials.

Mitford shook Taglione, Murphy and Zainal awake and started handing out the orders of the day.

It was the stink that woke her. She started coughing and couldn't stop. She wasn't the only one coughing, either.

Everyone around her was. Then a whiff of cool, clean air wafted across her face and she tried to go back to sleep again. It was much too soon to wake up. It was still dark outside.

Outside of where? That question did it: she pushed herself to a sitting position to find out where she was.

Inside a cave. The fire in the centre was down to embers, although someone was trying to revive it by putting lumps smell-producing lumps - on it.

"I think I'd prefer the dark to the smell," she murmured, realizing that folks were still sleeping around her. In fact, she recognized Patti Sue's frail body next to her. Kris was chagrined.

She hadn't even made sure she still had her trek buddy when she'd gone to sleep. Zainal? Zainal. Hmmm.

She looked around but she couldn't find his body among those in here with her. She considered going back to sleep and then realized that first she'd better find the latrine.

"Where's the latrine?" she asked the figure feeding the fire.

"From here?" The man paused briefly. "Hmmm. Go left, take the third right-hand opening."

"Can I see where I'm going?"

"Oh yes." Although torches had been spaced out along the walls, she found the right cave as much by a certain smell as following the directions. She was amazed at what had been accomplished. Or, how long had she slept?

A toothbrush!

When she thought of those handy little pouches handed out by airlines if you went Business Class she wished she'd had one to hand: toothbrush, comb and nail-file, not to mention toothpaste, breath neutralizer and face cloth, would be very comforting right now. And something to eat. She passed by "her' cave on her return because she smelt something scrumptious - well, by comparison with what she'd lately had to eat.

She followed her nose, passing other side passages and peering into caves filled with sleeping bodies. She took a wrong turning and ended up in a cul-de-sac which smelled not at all appetizing, but nasty, old-mouldy, dead.

Her nose led her to the source, and the largest of the caves. It was a-bustle with activity; men, women and aliens - Kris was glad to see the resurgence of whimsy in herself - coming and going. Though what they were going to and coming from she wasn't sure until she saw a group of men, each triumphantly brandishing their spoils. They'd been hunting and, although the creatures resembled oversized rats without tails, if they were what was being grilled over the fires, she'd forget the resemblance.

She went over to the nearest griller and paused by the rock on which two cooked fragments had been laid.

"How do I get in line?" she asked the dark-skinned cook.

"I wouldn't stand on no ceremony was I you," he said with a grin.

"Don't mind what they look like: they taste good and that Cat said they wouldn't kill us."

"He did?" and Kris tried to act casual as she reached for the. meat? Food? It wasn't too hot to handle and she brought it to her lips, inconspicuously licking the part nearest her to get a taste. The taste confirmed the notion that her stomach needed this no matter what else happened. She took a good bite, inhaling air to cool the morsel, hot against her teeth. But she chewed it well she had to; the meat was tough. It chewed good and tasted great and fell into a grateful stomach.

"Only one a customer," the dark man said, carefully inserting his knife point to check the state of the portions on the spit.

"Understandable. I've got ration bars to fill in the spaces, but this hot " She paused not only to take another bite to follow the first one but also to give what she ate a proper designation.

"We're calling it meat," he said, grinning.

"Well, whatever it's called, it hits the spot. Thanks - and she left her voice on an upnote for him to supply his name.

"Bart," he said. "You're Kris."

"How'd you know that?"

"Cos you carried that girl fer two days and you know the Cat."

"Oh!" Such glory was unexpected. She looked around then, rather embarrassed. She saw neither Zainal nor Mitford. "Where's the Sarge and the Cat?" "Out.

Hunting, I think, and seeing if there're more caves." He wrinkled his nose. "This place isn't really big enough for us all. Good idea to spread out anyhow, iffen you asked me. Only nobody did." He spoke amiably.

"Better if we had running water' "Oh, we do, but the way down to it's no picnic"Oh?"

"Underground lake and river. Probably feeding some of the streams we passed." Kris licked the thick bone that had been covered with meat.

"Crack it open. Marrow makes good eating, too." Kris scrutinized the bone with reluctance to take his advice.

"Marrow's got a lot of good in it, Kris," Bart said solemnly.

"Crunch down quick to break it open and then suck." Rather than appear squeamish, she did so and the marrow was not at all unpleasant. She made sure she had cleaned both halves and then looked around her.

"In the fire," Bart said. "We burn everything we can find."

"So I'd…smdt," she said with a grin.

"Yeah, do get kinda rank, don't it." Depositing the bones on the fire and hearing them snap as the flame caught, she also got a whiff of the "burnt bone' smell. She licked her fingers so she'd remember better the way the meat had tasted. Then she untied her cup from its place on her belt. "Where's drinking water?"

"Over there," and Bart nodded his head towards the side where she could recognize the symmetry of the water crates, stored against the cave wall.

She had no sooner taken a drink when a woman, with her dark hair roughly chopped to a short length, tapped her on the arm. "You wouldn't know how to skin and clean a dead animal, would you?"

"Yup," she said with considerably more willingness than she actually had for the task. But she'd skinned squirrels and rabbits on her practical for the survival 8o qualification and now was a much better time to display her abilities.

"I'm Sandy and I got put in charge without knowing doodly squat.

I used to be "and she gave a droll grin, "a potter."

"I'm Kn' "Yeah, I know," and the woman grinned at her.

"You know the Cat and you carried your buddy for two days.

Did everyone know those two facts about her? Kris wondered as she followed Sandy outside the cave. She hadn't noticed that the hunters had brought their catch outside again. Half a dozen people were busy skinning and gutting, using large stones as worktops. Two men and two women appeared to be dissecting entrails at another and arguing about anatomy.

"Guts are guts and I don't see why we can't use these, said the woman, holding up a long stringy grey rope.

"Ought to be as tough as any cat's."

"That's what Indians used to use to make bow strings, wasn't it?"

"Think so. They sure didn't have nylon." Kris was not squeamish but she didn't want to lose her breakfast. It had tasted so good going down, but coming up? She'd rather not find out.

Finding herself a space, she caught the beastie that Sandy tossed her. Limp, soft but firmly packed. The hide was unexpectedly pleasant to touch though the muted grey brown was an unearthly colour. It wasn't a furry hide, rather a suedey covering. Turning it around on her slab to examine it closely, she couldn't see what had killed it until she noticed that one half of the "head' had been mashed.

Too small to have been done by a club and certainly not a blow from the broad-edged hatchets they'd been issued.

It did have four legs, a chunky rounded body, and not much neck before the blunt end that was its head. She gave a sigh and, taking a quick glance round to see how others were tackling the job, she flipped it to its back and, tipping the head up, began the job of dressing it.

It had more meat on it than either rabbit or squirrel, having heavy haunches and well-developed shoulders.

Her knife, while large enough to be a shade unwieldy for precision surgery, was sharp. She made a bit of a hash of stripping the hide off the legs but hell, you didn't lose much below the "knee'. She had just finished when Sandy appeared with another one, and thus she spent her morning. There seemed to be endless quantities of that beastie and another, also suede covered with membranous wings that felt slimy. No meat on such wings, but she was told to save these, too.

"Did you get something to eat?" Sandy asked her at one point.

"Yes, something from one of the squatty things, I think."

"If we had a pot to stew in we could make everything go further," Sandy said with a rueful smile. "Bob the Herb," and she grinned back at Kris's startled expression, "well, he knew Terran herbs and he's found some root sorts of things that oughtn't to poison us. And some rather delicious sharp-tasting berries. At least, the Cat thought they'd be edible. He ate "em and didn't get the trots but Cats can eat a lot that'd give us the green apple two-step." Kris paused, another trick coming to mind. She sat back on her heels. "We got any natural holes anywhere?

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.

Everyone seemed very pleased. Bart was grinning like he'd just won a lottery.

"What's up, Bart?"

"They found food. A mountain of it." Then he recalled himself to his duties and turned the pieces cooking on his fire before they were reduced to char.

"Where? Things we can eat?" Kris found herself regarding the french-browned food hungrily.

"I guess so, or why roar so much?" he said with a shrug.

Kris took herself where she could hear what was being roared.

"Mountains of food!"

"Some kinda storage cave. Like a silo."

"And other doors we couldn't open…yet!"

"They'd have to be saving for centuries. "No-one near, no footprints, just cracks in the stone, like something real big stood there." She worked her way through the excited people towards the front of the cave, hoping to see someone she could ask for specifics. The storage cave bit worried her. It suggested that Zainal's information had been incorrect.

You don't store things, especially food, where there's no bodies to eat it.

Scratch tests will give you a quick idea," an Asian was saying in a firm voice. "They worked on some of the game you guys caught, as well as the roots and berries."

"Can we use the same method for the Rugarians and the Deskis, Matt?" she heard Mitford's voice ask.

"Gee, I don't know, Sarge. I was paramedic for human types."

"Zainal, can you ask "em?" Mitford switched to Barevi.

"Yes. I will ask," and Kris saw a movement among those crowded around Mitford as Zainal left to make his enquiries.

"OK, listen up!" Mitford's voice assumed parade ground volume. "I need some volunteers - you, you, you and you. Roll up your sleeves.

We got samples we need to test.

Suddenly the press of bodies thinned out as many decided not to be "volunteered' for any other bright ideas Mitford had in mind.

"Was food all that was found?" Kris asked as she moved towards Mitford.

"Isn't that enough?" a woman asked in an irritable voice.

"It's a help, surely, but we need so many things to set up a habitable place.

"Habitable? That's a laugh," the woman said and moved away from Kris.

"All that food could be a laugh, too," Greene said, appearing at her side, "if we can't stomach it."

"Anyone got any idea why there are such stores?" Kris asked him. "And what will happen if the Three Bears find Goldilocks?" She gestured to indicate they were cast as Goldilocks.

"Nope. Zainal hadn't any idea either. He insisted that the Catteni survey said the planet was uninhabited "With sentient life-forms?" "Mmmm. Yes, he did make that distinction," Greene replied and then grinned. "Scared the hell outa even the sarge when they came across metal doors, fer God's sake, across the cave entrances."

"How'd they get in, then?" Kris asked.

Greene chuckled again. "We got guys in this outfit with some very interesting skills." Kris grinned back at him. "Where are these sesame caves?"

"A good half-day's trek from here, so don't worry. And no road in or out. How'd they get crops in there without something that makes big tracks is puzzling."

"Stray mechanical things are more nervous-making than some honest-to-god alien creatures," Kris said.

"If you say so. Only the sarge has sent a detail to scout about and see if they can figure out how and from where the silos got filled.

He's calling a meeting this evening, anyway, to explain everything.

We might even have more to eat then, too." Greene licked his lips and Kris found herself- doing the same thing as the tantalizing smells were wafted towards them on the breeze. "I could've eaten a whole one by myself."

"You didn't finish off your bars, did you?"

"Hell no, and watch yours, will ya? As I said, we got guys, and gals, with taking ways as well as interesting skills."

"Oh, Lord, Patti Sue," Kris said and, ducking around Greene, started back to where the girl still slept.

She paused long enough to ask Bart if she could take Patti's share to her.

"I can count on you to give it to her and nobody else?" Bart said, fixing her with a stern eye.

"Yes, you can," Kris said solemnly, and found herself a rock on which to carry the hot meat.

Patti Sue was still asleep. Her food packet was gone.

Someone had rolled the girl over to get at it. Kris fumed and then decided that Patti Sue would just have to take some responsibility for herself. She leant over, careful not to tip the hot meat onto the dirty floor of the cave, and shook Patti Sue's shoulder. The girl's reaction - flailing about with hands and kicking out with her feet was so unexpected that Kris ended up juggling the hot meat from hand to hand, trying to keep it from dropping to the floor.

"Hey, Patti. Easy now, gal. Don't make me drop your food. It's hot,' she cried, trying to duck away from the girl's windmill of limbs.

"Kris?" Patti's voice broke and she stopped her battering.

"Ohhhh, you scared me."

"Didn't mean to. Sit up, will you.

This's hot! Use your sleeve Patti rolled down the overlong cuff and, using it as a pad, took the piece from Kris, who set about licking her fingers, as Patti regarded her portion suspiciously.

"Don't ask what it is "cos no-one's named the thing yet but it tastes pretty good and it is hot."

"I don't think I could eat anything - - -) Patti said and held it out to Kris.

"No way, gal. You eat it. Think of it as the fried chicken your mother used to make - - -"

"No'm, I won't, "cos she couldn't cook worth doodly," Patti said in the only personal comment yet to pass her lips.

Eyes closed, she then pulled her lips from her teeth and took a tiny and tentative bite. "Oh! It isn't bad, is it?" And opened her eyes, eating with more relish. "Or maybe it's "cos I'm so famished."

"Patti, you didn't think to hide your bars, did you?" Kris asked gently.

Patti looked up at her and her face fell. "No, why should I?

No-one would…" and with one hand she felt anxiously beside her and under her blanket, her face falling into tragic lines as she realized that her packet was gone. She started moaning and nearly dropped the meat.

Kris propped her drooping hand back in the direction of her mouth.

"So eat that, and we'll share. It's not the end of the world because they've found a storage cave with food in it."

"Cave? Food?" Patti seemed to shrink in on herself with fear. "There are Catteni living on this world, too?"

"No, not according to our live Catteni expert Patti's eyes got wider with her fright. "A Catteni - - "Eat!' Kris said urgently. "There was one Catteni dropped along with us and he's not a bad guy. He won't bother you -"

"Oh, oh, oh," and Patti moaned all the time she nibbled at the meat.

Kris had heard about dainty eaters but Patti took the prize.

Kris stayed with Patti Sue then, as much because the girl was so preternaturally frightened of every footstep in the corridor outside, every shadow that interrupted the torchlight into their cubby, as because she was also tired. Her hands and arm muscles ached from her stint at dressing meat and she had a couple of little nicks from kife cuts which were annoying. Then she remembered her first-aid kit and dabbed them with the yellow liquid It stung briefly but she knew that the Cat disinfectant would reduce any chance of infection.

She suggested a dip to Patti Sue but when she had to tell the girl how to get there and the primitive conditions, Patti just curled up, hugging her knees to her chest, and moaned.

"You're going to have to stop moaning, girl," Kris said, driven to it. "I don't mind, but there are others who will. We're all in the same condition - smelly, scared and suspicious. So you're not alone."

"But "Patti Sue began, her eyes wide and distressed, as she once again began to either apologize or explain.

She shut her mouth for a long moment. "You're right.

I am chicken livered. I always have been and I guess I always will be. And I won't say I'm sorry. I am what I am." 9' Kris began to regret her outburst. "Honey, we all are.

Scared, I mean."

"Are you still my buddy?" And the piteousness of her tone and the beseeching look in her eyes touched Kris the way the constant stream of apologies hadn't.

"You got raped, kid?" Kris asked, hunkering down beside her.

A convulsive shudder swept through Patti Sue's slender frame and she shot Kris an anguished look. "It shows, doesn't it?"

"Not like a birthmark or a scarlet letter," Kris said as kindly as she could. "The give-away is how you fiinch whenever you hear a man's voice, or see a shadow or someone totally harmless, like Jay Greene, who only tries to help you. I won't say there aren't guys in this group who wouldn't like to well, you know because you're a very pretty and appealing person. But right now, hon, there isn't anyone with much extra energy.

They need it all to stay alive on this crazy world. So why don't you buck up a bit? I'll stick by my ol' trek buddy as much as I can but I think I'm going to be getting some work assignments "or go nutty looking after you…Kris added to herself, "that'll take me away from you, so let's introduce you to a couple of other people… women who'll keep an eye on you when I'm not here." Patti Sue had become more and more agitated as Kris explained the situation and Kris could see that the girl visibly fought, and subdued, her immediate reaction to such news.

"Now, c'mon…and take your blanket with you. Not that we don't have others but it's wise to keep your things together here." With nervous hands, Patti managed to roll up her blanket and draped it over her shoulder as Kris had.

Still anxious, she followed Kris out of the cave, glancing nervously about when she heard voices issuing from other openings and almost treading on Kris's heels, she was so much her leader's follower.

She hesitated, gasping, when they entered the main cave, as she saw so many people moving about on errands, or squatting by fires to cook, chatting with those waiting for the hot meats. Others were making their way to the entrance.

Surprisingly, Kris saw that the exit looked out on a darkness broken by the ffickering light of torches and a fire. She was somewhat reassured that Mitford felt illumination was safe.

"We're safe here, Patti," she said, motioning to the opening.

"Outside's all lit up like Christmas. Let's go grab some fresh air and get a good seat for the meeting." The main cavern reeked not only of cooking odours but others which were not as savoury and certainly not appetizing.

"Oh…" Patti moaned, cringing.

"You might as well, honey, unless you plan on immuring yourself for ever in the stink."

"If you say so…" Patti Sue was not going to venture anywhere, even with Kris's assurance.

"C'mon, I think I know where we can sit," and Kris hoped that the darkness would be enough to conceal the evidence that part of the ledge had been an abattoir.

She walked, Patti so close behind her that she hoped the girl wouldn't lurch into her and knock them both off the ledge, to a point just above the fire: a fair-sized one, its flames reflecting off the faces seated around it.

"Hey, we'll have a balcony seat to the events," Kris said.

"Front and centre." Kris sat herself down while Patti Sue edged to Kris's right, with no-one beyond her. Yet.

Kris tried to identify the faces in the firelight: she spotted Zainal easily, sitting beside Mitford; Bass, Murphy, a Rugarian and two Deskis just beyond them, and then faces she vaguely recognized from the march but couldn't put names to.

Patti Sue's fearful gasp alerted her to an approach and the girl gripped her arm with surprisingly strong fingers.

"Easy," Kris muttered under her breath, for she recognized the newcomer. "It's only Jay Greene and he's decent. Hi, Jay. Don't know if you've met my buddy yet. Patti Sue, this is Jay Greene and he's a veritable Nimrod with boy scout snares. Join us. You can be our body-guard." Kris regretted that ffippancy the moment it was out of her mouth for Patti Sue tried to get inside Kris's skin, she sat so close.

Kris sternly told herself that she might be as nervous if she'd been raped repeatedly, too.

After all, that imminent possibility had prompted her to dare to steal the ffitter and secrete herself in the forest, hadn't it?

Greene sat down a couple of good handspans from Kris. She took the moment to turn to Patti Sue.

"You're about choking the circulation off in my arm.

Relax!" she murmured and felt the clutching fingers ease their stranglehold. She could almost feel the effort it took Patti Sue to remove her hands from Kris's arm. "What's the scam, Jay? You heard anything?"

"Yeah," and the firelight glinted off his white teeth as he smiled. "I hear that we are not alone!" He spaced the words out so that they sounded like the voice-over of a video trailer.

Patti Sue's hands returned to crush Kris's upper arm.

"I knew that," Kris said and this time just peeled the fingers off, putting the girl's hands back in her lap and giving them a final pat to stay there.

"No, I mean, we're not the only flotsam that got planted on this planet," Greene said.

"Really? Hmm, makes sense, though," Kris said in her most nonchalant tone. Why had she been saddled with such a nerd like Patti Sue! "There were only - what - five, six hundred plonked down in our field. I wouldn't call that an efficient disposition of redundant personnel. That ship they herded us into could handle who knows how many more. I know there were two levels, if not more. Maybe they did a clean sweep of all the holding cells on Barevi.

That would make the journey here economically feasible.

Any more humans?"

"Well," and Greene shrugged, "I'm not sure anyone could tell." Patti Sue let out little whimpers.

"Look on the bright side, will you, Patti Sue?" Kris said. "You weren't one of them and you're safe with us.

Isn't she, Jay?"

"Safe as houses," he said in a warmly reassuring tone, for which Kris gave him a broad smile and a thumbs up with her left hand which Patti couldn't see. "In fact, the more the merrier.

So long as we can exchange information and band together to solve the problems this place poses."

"Any other scuttlebutt?"

"Like what?"

"Did that scouting party Mitford sent out find what brings in the grain harvest?"

"No," Greene said, shaking his head. "They did find other storage caves, all hollowed out of solid rock. And more valleys of fields and stuff. That's where - - -" Kris gave him a quick flash of her hand to stop him saying anything that would set Patti Sue off again. "… Where they could see other heavy vehicles had been parked," he finished off.

They all heard the murmur of voices and saw that people were emptying out of the cave now and either making their way down to the bonfire level or finding spaces on the ledge.

"Do we start off with a national anthem, or a prayer?" Kris quipped to Jay.

"I doubt the good sergeant is religiously inclined," Greene remarked.

"For which I am deeply grateful." Kris felt Patti Sue's body stiffen with resentment at her fiippancy. "We need a realist."

"I second that!" Chuck Mitford had now stood up and raised his hands for quiet.

"This is Mitford speaking, in case any of you can't see me," he said in his gravelly parade-ground voice that echoed slightly in the ravine. "We've had several teams out on recon - reconnaissance to those of you who don't know army slang.

"We've found storage caves with enough grains - which we humans at least can digest - to supply us for years. We don't know who - or what - stored the stuff but they're unlikely to notice what we have taken, and will take, once we get our commissary organized. We're lucky to have some botanists among us, who've figured out what we can and cannot eat of the local stuff- berries and roots As you've all found out, the water tastes pretty good.

"We're also looking for additional quarters so we won't be jammed in like sardines "Like those transport ships, maybe?" a man added with droll bitterness and got a laugh.

Mitford's grin was visible in the firelight as he held up his hand. "We've also discovered that there were other parties… landed here. We haven't made contact but if anyone does, send your buddy back here for assistance.

Don't lead anybody here. Not even other Terrans." He paused to let that warning sink in. "We'll be safe sticking together with folks we've already got to know on the trek here. We'll integrate anyone who wants to but I think they ought to be vetted first." There were murmurs of agreement there.

"No more aliens " a voice said.

"That's a no-go," Mitford said sternly, glaring in the direction of the comment. "I make that plain right here and now. I don't know where you were on Barevi, but I learned that some of the aliens got lust as many smarts as I do." He jerked his thumb against his chest.

"And some have skills I don't. We get to make a fresh start on this planet so let's leave that sort of crap behind us. Huh?" He had a wide murmur of support for that suggestion.

"For those of you who don't know, it was the Deskis who found the caves for us. I doubt we Terrans could have done it. They climb like the spiders they resemble only they're humanoid like us, and I don't want to hear them called spiders any more. Hear me? Well, hear me good. They were ripped away from their planet same as we were. So we treat them the same as we treat one of us - because they are one of us.

Have I made that point clear enough?" The response he got was vociferous from most, which reassured Kris. She tried to spot those who were reluctant to grasp that announcement.

"A Deski carried May Framble's kid on the trek and never made a single complaint. - The look on Mitford's face chided those who had bitched. "So remember, they're in this, too, and pulling their own weight what weight there is of them. The Rugarians are part of us, too, by the sample principle. They accounted for more of our catch than human hunters did." He grinned. "Crack slingshotters!

"Another thing we gotta get straight like right now!" He pointed downwards to emphasize the immediacy.

"Any nasty individual caught stealing someone else's ration bars or in possession of more than a fair share - loses any he or she has on him or her and does latrine duty for a month. Understand?" He glared around the fire and up at the ledges. "We don't have much to steal but this colony isn't going to tolerate any pilfering. Not nohow, no way!' He sliced both hands across his body to indicate the finality of that statement. "You all got that straight?"

"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.

"You heard and he means it." Patti continued to moan, despite her earlier promise not to "Now, I'll listen to intelligent questions, preferably ones I can answer," Mitford said. "I'll keep an open office but if I'm busy, talk to Bass here. Zainal, you just got appointed our alien liaison man, only because you speak better Barevi than I do.

Dowdall - stand up there, and you, too, Murphy. They're acting as corporals. Got any complaints? Bring "em to them. I assure you they'll be looked into and remedied…if humanly possible." "Sergeant Mitford?" A man called, standing up so he could be seen, "any ideas why we got dumped here?"

"Zainal says Cattenis do this to settle some planets.

They come back at intervals to see if anyone's still alive and breathing."

"00 "Then we won't get off?"

"I didn't say that," and Mitford's voice was grim.

"But they have to land to take a look-see, don't they?

There's no guarantee it's them'll take off in the ship, is there?" That comment brought a lot of hopeful murmurs and muffled remarks.

"And one good reason to be friendly to the one Catteni we got on our side," Mitford went on. "Any other questions?"

"Then who's farming this planet?"

"Good question and I don't know the answer."

"Does the Cat?" "Our Catteni ally," and Mitford paused to be sure everyone caught his use of the full name, "does not, as his knowledge of this planet is almost as spotty as ours - except he'd heard that some of the indigenous specimens are dangerous. Outside of this camp, you keep your eyes and ears open. Or live long enough to tell us what you saw or heard."

"Gee thanks, Sarge," and a ripple of laughter ran through the crowd.

"Everyone's in remarkably good spirits," Kris said to Greene.

"Amazing how a full belly improves your outlook.

"Some bastard stole Patti Sue's rations," she added.

"Doesn't surprise me," Greene replied in a low voice.

"We can get her more. Or should you keep them safe for her?"

"After what Mitford said about having more than my fair share? Thank you no." "Ooops! Hmmm. Well, I don't think she'll lose "em again.

Maybe you should trade buddies with Sandy."

"A thought," Kris replied, knowing even as she spoke that she'd be conscience stricken if she did.

"Why should I saddle her with Patti?"

"She's one tough lady and will watch out for the girl," Jay said. "And someone's going to have to watch for her because she's sure one nervous kid." Kris sighed.

Decisions, decisions. But she wasn't going to be tied by Patti Sue to the cave and not get some "exercise'. And she'd survived on her own on Barevi, so she was confident she could be useful as a scout or food hunter here on wherever they were.

She cupped her hands to her mouth before she could think twice.

"Hey, Sarge, does this planet have a name?" Mitford looked up, trying to see her in the darkness beyond the firelight.

"Bjornsen? Zainal, you guys name your planets?" Zainal stepped into the firelight. "Only numbers," he said in Barevi, shrugging.

"What about "Bounty"? Like in Mutiny on the " a woman called.

"Alcatraz?"

"Be positive - El Dorado." The exchange of names and opinions stirred an uproar which Mitford let go on for a while before he held up his hand.

"Murphy found some sort of chalk. He'll put it by the cave entrance and those of you who can write - " there were laughs, "can put up your choice of name. We'll settle the matter tomorrow right here," and he pointed to the fire, "when we issue tomorrow's progress report.

Got me?"

"Gotcha!" was bellowed back at Mitford from every corner and the word bounced about the ravine.

"OK then. Sentries, take your positions. You'll be relieved at first moonrise. Dis-MISSED!" Despite the military order, Mitford was grinning as he stepped back from the fire and into the darkness beyond it.

"C'mon, Patti Sue," Kris said, rising to her feet. "I want to find Sandy and see where she's sleeping. That way you'll know who to go to tomorrow." Patti Sue was clutching her arm again. "Tomorrow?

You'll be going? Where? You can't leave me!"

"Honey, I can and I will," Kris said. "You'll be all right. You heard Mitford. No-one's going to mess with you.

"But supposing "Shut up, Patti Sue," Kris said firmly, giving the girl a shake. "I can't babysit you every minute of the day."

"Oh," and Patti sank back in on herself.

"Now, Miss Patti," Greene said in a soothing voice, making no move towards the frightened girl, "you will be safe. Sandy and I are supposed to inventory the supplies we've got and what's been brought in. We may have to use the walls for our records but I got some of the chalk Murphy found and you can be our secretary. Is that what you did on Earth?"

"Secretary?" Patti's voice took on a little substance.

"Yes, I was a secretary. A good one but "You've just been promoted to the job here," said Greene so kindly that Kris could have kissed him.

"You heard Mitford - we all have skills that he can use, Patti Sue," she said and, with one hand around the girl's waist, eased her along the ledge to the entrance.

"We'll just find Sandy. We'd better move along now or we might miss her. She's good people.

"But you're my buddy," Patti Sue said in a quavering tone.

"Yes, I was," Kris's conscience forced her to say, "for the trek, but that's over and we're here. Besides, Sandy's a good cook and it's a smart idea to be on the right side of the cooks, you know. Now let's find her." They did, grilling the last of the day's catch.

"Sentries get what's left over," she said, taking in Patti Sue's terror-stricken face and smiling reassuringly. "Patti Sue, you just sit here, right by me…" and she physically manhandled Patti Sue into the space she wanted her in. "You go on now, Kris, so Patti Sue and I can get acquainted." Give the woman her due, Kris thought, she didn't even blanch at the idea of having Patti Sue hanging on to her.

As Kris hastily departed, Greene on her heels, she heard Sandy telling the girl that she had a daughter about Patti's age and where she had come from on Earth.

"You can't be saddled with that one any longer," Jay said as they made their way down to the bonfire.

"And there's no discharge in the war"," Kris chanted out, resorting to Kipling.

"Huh?"

"Nemmind. Can you see Sarge or Zainal?"

"Beyond the fire, I think - -" It was an easier climb down than up, so she realized that wider, better steps had been carved out of the cliffside at some point during that day.

They had to wait their turn to speak to Mitford as there were no lack of volunteers for the scouting and hunting parties. Maybe another day Kris could go to the caves to see the stores with her own eyes.

"Got room for me on a scouting party tomorrow, Sarge?" Kris asked when he looked around and saw her. When he spotted Greene behind her, he scowled. "Oh, I left Patti Sue with Sandy but I've got survival skills "Yeah, you did well on Barevi," Mitford said but she thought, for a moment, that he had other plans for her.

"The skills're good anywhere…in the universe. and she grinned. "Sides I had a good rest today, gutting beasties." Mitford hesitated until he saw Zainal watching him.

"Go with our ally. You're safer with him."

"I am?"

"You better believe it." That came out as a growl.

"Rendezvous at last moonset. Same cave? Good, Zainal'll know where to find you." He started to turn to those waiting behind her.

"Sarge, someone stole Patti's rations while she slept." Mitford nodded to Jay Greene. "Mark a package with her name then, Greene, and keep it in stores. At best, she'll get used to dealing with a male again. Next?" And he looked beyond them to others waiting patiently for his attention. Kris and Jay moved off.

"I don't know if that was an insult or not," Jay murmured drolly.

"Well, I'll know it's safer in your care and she'll get fed."

"Patti Sue'll always get fed," Jay said cryptically. to her, then she stretched out and there was space left for Sandy, at least, and probably someone else. Because her noise would keep everyone awake, Kris leaned over and, shaking the woman, suggested that she turn on her side. Sleepily the woman complied, and then Patti sighed deeply in appreciation as she made herself as comfortable as possible.

Not that Kris needed any help getting to sleep. She didn't even turn once - that she remembered.

Kris collected Patti Sue from Sandy, trying to ignore the look in the girl's eyes which suggested that she had doubted that Kris would return for her. Sandy asked which cave they were stashed in and she'd just change her bedroll into it.

Kris escorted Patti to the water containers for a drink, and then to the latrine cave and showed her how to take care of that basic problem before they retired.

There was one woman fast asleep and snoring along the inside wall.

So Kris directed Patti Sue to lie next io6