Power Lines

Chapter 4

Mud is a great leveler and, although the military had put down plastic boardwalks so people could get around the muddy streets of Kilcoole, mud did provide a disguise of sorts. One mud-spattered person looked like any other, local or imported. As plastered with this camouflage as everyone else, Yana and Sean had no trouble reaching Adak's snocle shed. His precious vehicles were now in the loft, and one battered antique 4x4 was parked outside.

"It's not an official one," Yana said, peering at the sides for any SpaceBase markings.

"It's Adak's, all right. I hate to think when they last made those, or what Adak traded to get a hold of one, but somehow he keeps it running," Sean said, and, his hand on her back again, he propelled her quickly toward the mechanic's crawl-through set in the main door. He paused only briefly, listening. The only voice within earshot was Adak's, so they pushed through and into the smell, now redolent with oil and fuel and mud.

Adak turned from his comm station to see who his visitors were and his face lit up.

"Yes sir, I got the message. Only official communications. Right ye be! Over." He lifted the ear piece and rubbed exaggeratedly. "My, that man does go on. Slainte, Sean, Yana. Good to see you; what can I do to help? He glanced down at the comm unit and sniffed expressively.

Thanks, Adak," Sean said, grinning as he recognized the man's tacit willingness to disobey the orders he had just been given.

"We need to get in touch with Johnny Greene and Rick O' Shay."

"They're airborne," Adak said. Special missions."

Sean and Yana exchanged glances.

"What frequency are they on?" Yana asked.

Adak grinned more broadly. "Happen I just got word of 'em." He settled the ear piece again and held his finger over the keyboard. "Who'll I get ya first? Johnny or Rick?

''I'd say Rick," Sean replied.

Yana and Sean took turns explaining to Rick what was going down, what they wanted him to do, and how they thought he could accomplish it. Rick had already heard enough rumors to know almost as much as they did-and he was willing to help.

"Hell, all I'm doing right now is figuring out what roads are passable. A lot of equipment might need to be moved," he said, his voice taking on a gloomy tone. "Johnny's up and doing the same thing to the west. We've both had to swear allegiance and die-for-it oaths to Intergal, but shit, we crossed everything we could while taking it.' The customary lilt was back in Rick's voice. "Lemme get Johnny in on this where there aren't any ears to hear us."

"They've been monitoring you, then?" Yana asked, not too surprised.

"Not on this frequency, and I did a little twiddling with the bug they put in the cabin so you don't have to worry. Soon's Adak came on, I disconnected a wire. Shouldn't leave it loose much longer. But I'll leave word with Adak when Johnny and I've done what's needful. Might even get in one trip tonight if I can finagle it."

"You're top of the finaglers at SpaceBase," Adak said approvingly. "Code it?"

"Better. When I come on, ask me the mud level on the road to Tanana Bay. If I say it's ankle deep, that means Yana and Sean can meet me where Uncle Seamus collects water. If I say it's knee high, I'm having trouble. I'll get back to you soon's I can. Over and out."

"Hell," Adak said, rubbing his ear thoughtfully, "it's more than ankle deep and knee high everywhere. And I don't mean just the mud."

"Keep yourself out of trouble if you can, Adak. We need you at the comm unit," Sean said.

Adak laughed. "Those new guys don't know doodly about this here comm unit. It don't take kindly to rough hands and always goes all static and wheeing." He grinned. "Only old Adak knows its ways."

"We'll stop in at Clodagh's now, if you should need us," Sean said, guiding Yana toward the back exit.

The less-frequented paths actually showed some sturdy grass growth as they made their way behind houses and detoured back into the forest to avoid the new Intergal housing. One of the cats met them halfway to Clodagh's, and the tone of its greeting suggested that it was pleased to see them.

"No trouble?" Yana asked, not quite sure she was interpreting the creature accurately.

Sean grinned, but he kept looking at the ground as they went from mud to snow to the new grass. "No, no trouble. Except…" He frowned. "We might just have the longest growing season ever and we've got to plan, also, to take advantage of that! It could prove crucial."

Yana felt a shiver up her spine and agreed with him whole heartedly at the word "crucial," knowing that Sean and the others were concerned about what would happen if Intergal cut the planet off from outside supply lines entirely. Though Petaybee was largely self-sufficient, the growing season usually was too short to provide enough fruits and vegetables and other plant-derived products. A longer growing season would mean less reliance on outside sources-and yes, that certainly could be crucial.

Evening was closing in as they approached Clodagh's house. They could hear banging and pounding and the sound of boards being shifted, and Yana grinned: someone was doing some of the much-needed repairs of a structure that had been held together by ice in the winter but needed nails and mortar now that the weather was warmer. All over the village people were engaged in similar pursuits. Yana peered around the corner of the house where all the banging was, to tell Clodagh they were there, but as Sean opened the door, she saw that Clodagh was inside. From the look of the interior, the big woman had also been thinking along the same lines as Sean.

The kitchen was even more filled than usual with good smells, but these did not emanate from the pot that normally sat simmering on her stove. Instead, the earthy odors came from tiers of warming trays raised above the stove and stacked with stones. On the trays were tiny clay pots holding shoots of greenery, and it was from these the smells came. The kitchen table was also covered with little pots and soil and bundles of dried flowers and piles of seeds.

"Slainte, Sean, Yana," she said, looking up from where she sat spread-legged on the floor, her skirts hiked up above her moon-shaped pale while knees and colorful hand-knit stockings. Between her knees and her feet and all around her were more pots, more seed packets, and trays of potting compost. Inspecting with critical sniffs all the interesting items laid out to be worked on were various members of the orange-marmalade cat battalion. Two had curled up to sleep in one potting tray not quite large enough for their bulk: they spilled over like immense orange alien plant-forms. "Did you two think of any songs?"

"Quite a few," Sean said, fondly leering at Yana.

'Nothing we could repeat in polite company though," Yana said. "How about you?"

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 assets 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 space that would comfortably accommodate about a dozen. Clodagh explained to the villagers what the cats had imparted to her. Nobody 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 assent.

Sinead said, "Aisling and I will take Shannonmouth, since there's trading we want to do there anyway."

"I can't believe McGee's Pass 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 gratitude 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 Pass 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 assignments 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.

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 snatched 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 asses kicked."

"And those doing the kicking?" Bunny asked, cocking her head in a semi-critical fashion.

"Went to other habitable planets. We weren't about to settle ancestral enemies together,"-Whittaker said with a snort. "The company figured that, with warring factions split up, enough new land to go around, and no traditional enemies to fight, their energies would be put to good use and there'd be enough of them left to hand down the good traits they had submerged to fight. Then the company could restore the fought-over and very battered real estate on Earth. Everyone would end up with more than they would have had otherwise. Most importantly, they'd end up alive."

"Ah, sure and I'm moved to tears, Doctor darlin', to hear how kind you've been to us poor savages," Adak surprised Yana by saying with his brogue-deepened sarcasm.

"I'm not trying to white wash the company or its decisions," Whittaker said. "But there were some altruistic and ethnic preserving reasons operating at the time. Company people aren't all bad, any more than everyone on this planet is all good. The sociologists who designed the population balance tried not only to mix people used to cold weather with those who weren't, but also to mix groups who might get along with each other and share characteristics that would make for a more successful adjustment to the environment."

"Yes, and we turned out very well, Whit, thank you," Clodagh said, and tugged on his webbed belt for him to return to her side, exhibiting her approval of what he had explained. It was a good point to make. What we want to do is to stand together and tell the company what we want what Petaybee wants. Just makin' somebody else to blame isn't gonna help the planet. We got to get people to understand, and you can't do that while you're shoutin'. Now then, Eamon, why don't you go speak to the folks up at New Barrow?"

When everyone had a destination, Clodagh handed out the seedlings, good will gifts for the hoped-for long growing season. Some people were using the trips as an excuse to visit relatives they hadn't seen in a while, and by the time everyone left, the venture had lost its bitter edge and was infused with something of a holiday spirit.