Metal Swarm - Kevin J. Anderson [124]
Without supplies and some form of agriculture, the camp couldn't become self-sufficient. Davlin had to come up with a solution soon. He knew that many of the survivors here had realized the same thing.
'I can go out hunting for us, forage for food,' Steinman suggested. 'A lot of things here are edible, provided you aren't too queasy. The lizards aren't bad. The bones are a little crunchy, and the scales leave a scraped feeling at the back of your throat, but you get used to it.'
Davlin nodded. If hungry enough, a person could eat just about anything. And these people were going to get hungry, especially since the Klikiss reapers had plundered the Llaro landscape.
'How long do you suppose it'll be before the Hansa notices that their EDF substation has gone silent?'
Davlin had considered this, and others had raised the question to him before. Years had passed before Basil Wenceslas decided to do something about the Colicos team that had gone silent on Rheindic Co. Davlin and Rlinda Kett had been sent to investigate, but only after it was much too late. 'I wouldn't count on it.'
One dark-haired young man, no more than nineteen, ran up to him. 'Davlin! There's a message in the Remora. The log light is blinking!'
'What were you doing poking around in the ship? Those instruments are delicate.'
'I just saw the light blinking, then I came back here. Maybe it's a rescue message?' The young man - one of the Crenna colonists Davlin had saved - seemed as full of desperate hope as a man clinging to a thin root while dangling from a cliff.
Davlin didn't want to quash his optimism. 'Maybe. Let's go see.'
Steinman accompanied them to a steep-walled arroyo at the base of the bluffs. When he saw the EDF ship nestled in a rocky slot eaten away by the infrequent but turbulent rainstorms, the old man let out an amazed laugh. 'You landed a Remora in that little notch?'
'It was wide enough. The next flood season will wash it away, but I hope we won't be staying here that long.' If the Klikiss were intent on hunting them down, he doubted even a colony full of silver berets could hold the line for such an extended period.
With the young man in the lead, Davlin picked his way down the steep side of the bluff, finding memorized handholds and footholds in the sandstone. One of the men had suggested chopping deeper steps or even mounting a ladder, but Davlin was reluctant to make any visible changes. The Klikiss might see.
Steinman followed them, talking nervously to distract himself from the precarious path. His fingers slipped on the cliff wall, he gasped, but caught himself.
Down in the arroyo bed, the young man pushed aside the camouflaging brush piled around the vessel, clearing the cockpit opening.'See, look! The light is flashing.'
Davlin climbed partway inside, powered up the control panels, and checked the comm system. 'You're right. There's a message.'
Steinman leaned into the pilot's chamber, shoulder to shoulder with Davlin, while the young man wormed his way between them, listening as the log played Roberto Clarin's plea for help.
Davlin pressed his lips together. The words came as no real surprise to him. He played the message again, then looked at his two companions. 'I was making plans, but we'll have to start sooner than I expected.'
Seventy-seven
King Peter
While Peter held Estarra's hand and smiled encouragement, a Roamer midwife checked her over. 'It'll be another few weeks. The baby seems healthy, and so is the mother. We should have an uneventful birth.'
Peter chuckled. 'Uneventful? Biologically speaking, I hope so. But politically? The birth of this child will have huge repercussions for the Confederation and the Hansa.'
Estarra looked warmly at him. 'The Roamers are already jabbering about it. They want to throw a grand celebration to honour the birth.'