HUBBLE THURSDAY

(The Pistol Star, a brilliant star in Milky Way's core. Click on image to enlarge.)

Every Thursday, I post a very large photograph of some corner of space captured by the Hubble Space Telescope and available online from the picture album at HubbleSite. NASA on Wednesday unveiled the first deep space photos taken by Hubble since its billion dollar repair mission last spring. Large versions of this images are not yet available, but smaller versions (STUNNING!) can be seen with the AP article here.


WHEN YOU ARE OLD AND GREY

by William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

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SEEING WHAT'S BEEN BROKEN FOR CENTURIES

Rick Perlstein absolutely nailed it last month: "In America, crazy is a pre-existing condition."

I want to take this extremely useful reminder one or two steps further. We need to ask ourselves (1) When dealing with manifest mental illness, what is an effective and humane form of behavior that doesn't make things worse, for us or for them? and (2) Let's be explicit about what kind of crazy we're facing here.


Once I was having dinner with an old friend who had retired to a rural area for a while after an extended, messy break-up. She was back in town and we were catching up. She looked much brighter and happier than she had when she'd left town, and I was relieved to see it. Before we got to dessert, however, she confided that she'd finally gotten over her heartbreak after having visitations from aliens -- she could name the planet and galaxy -- who let her know she'd been born there, not on Earth, and she would always have problems relating intimately to Earthlings. I broke into giggles, but she was dead serious. She had come up with a way to cope, a narrative which worked for her, and I had about twenty seconds to figure out what to do.

That sort of situation, once the shock passes (take several sips of tea), is not so hard to handle. Ask questions, stay kind, remind yourself what they -- any of us -- really want/deserve is love and interest. Easy to remember when it's your friend. She didn't have any children she was responsible for, she was clean and eating well and driving okay, and she wasn't going around telling everybody she was from Planet X, only the folks she trusted, so she wasn't about to get locked up. Functionally delusional.

I'm thinking, at this point in America, about one out of every three people is functionally delusional. I think we've always had more than our share because of the nature of our immigration here -- folks who can healthily adjust to and remain in their home communities don't leave those communities. And being persecuted doesn't mean you haven't also become pretty messed up along the way.

On top of that revisitation of the great American myth, I also believe that white supremacy, woman-hating, class exploitation, and child abuse are all concrete forms of mental illness. They are interlinked, they have for millenia been fostered and supported by European governments and the Christian Church, and they are the bedrock upon which our country was founded. When Che said he envied us because we live in the belly of the beast, the point is not whether he was being sarcastic: The point is that living in the belly is a very poor strategic position from which to fight the beast unless you first acknowledge all your sustenance is coming from the beast.

To put it another way, if you say you are not a racist, you most definitely are. Racism is a core value in our culture and nobody escapes the conditioning. And the basic tenet of racism is not that "there are differences between the races" or whatever Websterian bullshit semantic game you want to trot out: The basic tenet of racism is white supremacy. If you are not white, you are second-class (on a good day). You are the Other. You are a risk to the American Way of Life.

Yes, some white Europeans got labeled not-quite-white or The Other for a while, but that merely proves the point. You can lose your position of safety in a system built on racism by associating with/defending/or becoming not-white. It keeps white people in line, this risk; most especially working-class white folks who are already on thin ice.

So, because of a brilliant campaign in which one of the subliminal messages was "I'm not entirely black, I'm not black like Jesse Jackson or Jeremiah Wright, I've picked up enough class polish to not embarrass you like Dubya, and I will NOT make America deal with its bedrock racism", we've elected an African-American to the Presidency. I'm not saying those are the only reasons Obama was elected, but for too many white people who cast the deciding votes, I believe the hope that we could simply side-step racism and Just Be Together made Obama someone they voted for.

Plus: The mess about to handed to the next President was godawful. Who do we get to clean up our messes for us in this country? The really terrible messes, the ones that make you need to gag? Women and/or People of Cullah. Goes without saying.

But for that 30% who are functionally delusional, part of their functionality vanished when the Presidency didn't go to a white guy. They simply cannot cope with what has actually occurred. They are, to use jargon, decompensating. I happen to believe the impact would have been just a great if Hillary had been elected, and if there's one bright lining in all these, it's that I'm not having to listen to the non-stop woman-hating jag that would be going on if she'd been elected. Not Sarah Palin, because she is a Real Woman, according to the delusion, which means she's under the thumb of a man. But in comparison to all the horrifying racism that has bubbled up to the surface (didn't have far to go, let's be honest), if it were Hillary as target, it wouldn't just be the Right. It would be all our nice liberal boys who get twitchy at the mention of her name.

You'll see their flecks of spittle start appearing in the comments as soon as I post this. Until I delete those comments for being unhingedly off the point, that is.

Thus, the racism that was always there, always running the show, has been unmasked for a lot of white people, and we can't live in the same comfortable pretense that we had before. Even those of us who have other labels which make us pitchforks-and-torches targets -- dykes, fags, Jews, crips, poor and not upwardly mobile -- have had a jolt, seeing how much crazy is pouring from the seams. To quote Madge, "We're soaking in it."

And the only way to clean it up thoroughly is to scrub down to bare wood. Otherwise, we'll keep having what we've got.

It won't be Obama and his inner circle who does this work. It's going to be so-called progressives (which is not a cohesive, clearly defined community, either) who will help steward our culture from about to self-destructive Crazy to admitting-we-have-a-problem-and-maybe-we-can-work-on-it Crazy. What I've promised myself in this process is to not lie just because what I'm criticizing Obama and his crew for may remind me/us of the hate pouring from racism. I have to remember, I voted for him, I want him to succeed, I want him to find a way to live up to ideals that he may have only mouthed for political expedience, but people can change.

And here's a few thoughts I've had over the last couple of weeks.

(1) The Birther insanity is code for "There is no such thing as a legitimate black birth." Admitting that black children can be born with as much legitimacy as white children strokes a sledgehammer blow at white supremacy. ESPECIALLY if it's the result of miscegenation, which was still illegal in this country for a chunk of my lifetime.

(2) The school speech "controversy" is code for "We don't let our children see or hear black people who speak well and with pride." This is no joke: Families built around authoritarian principles don't let African-American images in television come into their homes, unless they are being arrested by cops, clearly poor and/or "know their place", or the parents are there to make sure the kids hear non-stop racism instead of noticing the black people look/sound like people. White people who have been raised with this kind of isolation and deliberate poisoning are all around us. Continuing that practice is the real point of not letting their kids hear Obama speak in a non-racist, public setting. Contagion, you know -- if they find out they can be lesbians, their daughters will never choose men, and if they find out black people can be smart and powerful, they'll insist on living in a world where that's the case.

(3) Having lots of people openly carry guns makes public settings extremely unsafe for everybody present. Statistics have proven it over and over again: Add a gun to a crowd, and the odds of somebody innocent dying go way up. The point of having armed presence at public forums is to scare away the non-crazies, to get us used to further militarization of our discourse and community environments, and to have weapons handy in case somebody goes off the deep end and DOESN'T HAVE ONE OF THEIR OWN TO USE. "Hey, I was just carrying for self-defense, how was I to know that lunatic would snatch it from my holster and fire at the President?"

(4) Recruitment and glomming together of the deranged can be subtle. During the 1980s, the activist group I worked with finally figured out how come the Klan and Nazis kept having rallies in places where they were absolutely going to be shouted down by the opposition. They didn't hope to persuade any of us to change our minds, and they knew they were pissing off the neighborhoods they intruded upon. But because of that antagonism, they had to be surrounded by cops two or three rows deep, cops who were facing screaming commies, Jews, lesbians, and POC. Those cops were the Klan's recruitment target. These days it's cops plus the military.

(5) If somebody says, in any translation, that they cannot handle what is actually occurring -- and we're hearing that now, 24/7 -- we need to point out over and over again that THEY are the ones with a problem. Crazy people seldom admit they are crazy.

(6) You don't argue with crazy people. We go on with our work, and if they interfere, we say "Nope, I don't have time to help you right now with your emotional imbalance" and MEAN IT.


[Cross-posted at Group News Blog.]

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LOLCATS WEEKLY ROUND-UP, 9 SEPTEMBER 2009

Here's the weekly best of what I've gleaned from I Can Has Cheezburger efforts. There are some really creative folks out there. As usual, those from little gator lead the pack.

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PYA: CHAPTER NINETEEN

To begin reading this sci-fi novel or for background information, go to my Chapter One post here. To read about the background of the first novel, read my post here, which will also direct you to appendices.

For more detailed information, posted elsewhere on this blog are:

Pya Dictionary from Skenish to English (complete up to present chapter), with some cultural notes included
Pya Cast of Characters (complete up to present chapter)
Map of Pya with Description of Each Island
Map of Skene (but not Pya)
Map of Saya Island and Environs When Pyosz First Arrived
Skene Character Lineage at Start of Pya Novel
Skene, Chapter One (With Cultural Notes in Links)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tu untied the kerchief around her neck and wet it in the sink, wrung it out and retied it. She pulled a thick leather cap from her carryall and tucked her hair underneath it. She tucked goggles in her gilet and gloves into her waistband. Pank finished her eel and did as Tu had done. They shouldered sledgehandles from their toolbox and walked toward the kissing gate. Pyosz turned off her oven and hurried after them. At the gate, however, Tu turned to her and said "You need to get the seawater hose and unclip it from the faucet, drag it down to near the woods."

When Pyosz caught up with them, Pank took one end of the hose and lay it over the grass to the shingle beach. She called to Tu "That nozzle open?" and Tu yelled "Yeah." Pank sat down on a rock, looking at Herne again. Most of the goats were drifting in Pyosz's direction. Kids were trying to make a game from the hose. When the sound of a sinner approached from the west, however, and grew loud overhead, goats ran in all directions. Boulder headed east, and eventually the other goats decided to stick near her.


Pank picked up her end of the hose and began shoving it back and forth in the sea off the beach. Pyosz realized she was trying to get siphon action going, and was distracted in two directions, by that and the huge swaying metal machine nearly overhead. Tu shouted to Pank "That's got it!" and picked up her end of the hose to shut off the nozzle. Pyosz wondered how much salt water had just splashed out into her pasture and how long that spot would remain dead of vegetation.

But the heat from the downward jets was palpable, even though they were at least 20 feet above the machine the sinner was lowering. Tu stood to one side, Pank to the other, directing Maar with hand signals. Once the machine was on solid ground, Tu quickly unhooked its chain leading to the sinner, never looking upward, and as she ran away from the jets, Pank signaled to Maar to lift off. Pyosz went to Tu and felt the back of her gilet: Hot to the touch. She began walking the perimeter of where the jets had blown, looking for sparks in her grass, the fear of fire now a solid reality in her mind.

She glanced toward the eastern end of the pasture and saw goats in a quivering bunch around Boulder. Kids were trying to stand underneath their emmas.

Tu and Pank lifted massive telescoping arms away from the sides of what was basically a 20-foot-long heavy carrying sledge with a long metal chest at one end, locking them in a fold away from the sledge and setting their end spikes onto ground several feet behind the sledge. They drove these spikes into the ground with alternating blows from their sledgehammers. After a couple of minutes, Maar and two forestry workers came through the kissing gate. The two workers pulled more support arms from the sledge sides. Eventually, the sledge was firmly spiked into the ground to a depth of three feet.

Pank now lifted the lid of the chest, and the four forestry workers assembled a winch from its interior, with chains as big around as Pyosz's forearm. Pyosz realized whatever was cut down in her woods was going to be forcibly dragged to the carry sledge by these chains, with traction maintained by those anchors in the ground. When it was all assembled, Tu and Pank each repeated Pyosz's search for hot spots. Declaring it clear, they retrieved chainsaws from the chest. Donning goggles, gloves, and leather chaps, they walked into the woods. The other workers followed, carrying axes and handsaws.

"Can we go watch?" Maar asked Pyosz.

"I'm going to" said Pyosz.

The big maple, the largest tree needing removal, was only three feet off the trail. Tu circled it several times, sometimes squatting or standing on tiptoe to check lines of sight. She talked intermittently with Pank, but clearly she was the decision-maker here. Finally she called out "Beginning back wedge. Pyosz and Maar, get back to the middle of the pasture." Pyosz all but skipped up her trail.

The initial roar of the chainsaws sent songbirds bursting from foliage like custard flung from beaters. Pyosz heard some of her goats bleat in protest. She could see the two crew members on the trail in the opposite direction. The chainsaw sputtered loud and soft, loud and soft, until Tu yelled out "Ready to go". Pank strolled back into the pasture then. Tu's saw gave another two-second buzz, and Pank stood patiently. There was no crack when the maple began to go, not until its branches began sliding past other trees. It fell at a neat angle, sacrificing a few small branches on small trees nearby but missing all trunks, landing with its crown nearly at the head of the trail in front of them.

"Looks good" called out Pank. "Okay to trim?"

"Go for it" replied Tu, obscured by still falling leaves and twigs. Pank ripped her saw into action and deftly began removing everything that wasn't trunk on the maple, with easy expertise. After a couple of minutes, Pyosz could see Tu on the other side of the maple, doing the same kind of trim. The other crew members were dragging large branches to beside the sledge, trimming them with hand tools.

It was horrifying to Pyosz, how quickly the maple turned from a tree into a single stubby trunk with raw wounds all over it. Pank put down her saw and began wrapping the trunk with chains that had spikes which bit into the wood. Tu came to help, readjusting some of Pank's placement. The other crew members kept busy until Pank said "Okay, about to winch". They moved far to the side as Pank went to the come-along's controls at the back of the sledge.

With a gentle hand, she pushed a lever forward. The sledge shuddered, and Pyosz felt the ground underneath her feet rumble a little. More goat bleating broke out behind her. Pank released the pressure, Tu said "Grip's okay", and Pank engaged the lever again. She used incremental progress to ease the trunk out of its fallen bed, onto the trail, and up to the sledge. Pyosz realized that all of Tu and Pank's slowness was a chief attribute of safety in working with the extremely heavy, unpredictable materials they faced each day. Once the trunk tip was inches from the sledge, she locked the lever in off and said "I need lunch before we do more."

Pyosz called to her goats in the northeast corner "We're leaving for a while. Eat up, the invasion isn't over." Maar set the table while the forestry folk washed themselves using the fresh-water hose and Pyosz put serving dishes on the counter. After one bite, the crew member with grey stripes in her brown hair said to Tu "You weren't kidding, about the food."

Over the meal, the crew members filled Pank and Tu in on the events that morning at Mti, involving a log jamming in the feed and something or other blowing out a whatchamacallit -- their mouths were so full, Pyosz couldn't make out all the words -- leaving whosis with a six-inch splinter through her wrist that someone else pulled out with pliers before a lighter was called to take her to the clinic.

"Hadn't oughta pull out impalements" said Pank, shaking her head. "Best to leave it in until the curandera can be there. You can bleed out that way. Remember when your friend's arm got sucked into the -- "

Tu put her hand on Pank's knee. "Eating. With non-tree-folk."

"Oh, right" said Pank. Talk turned to the exploit of a Pertama teenager who had needed rescue the day before.

For over a decade, heavy loads traveling from a site on one of Dvareka's two rivers to another site on the same river had been shipped by steam-powered barge. Folks from Skene had almost no experience with watercraft that wasn't on a cable or a narrow tiller route, and running ashore had been common during the early learning curve. Before long, teenagers began constructing their own one- or two-person boats from bent metal welded into more or less watertight hulls, with much experimentation regarding shape and draft. At first, these were merely launched into the current and ridden with whoops of delirium downstream, being stopped by the check-chain at the river's mouth.

Eventually, however, some clever youngster had done research and rigged a small sail in her boat. River sailing became a craze that spread to young adults, and when they learned how to tack back upriver, new laws had to be passed regarding right of way for barges, boat inspection, and other bureaucratic tedium that didn't do much to slow down the craze.

The day before, one brave heart who counted overmuch on the currents chart created by Uli, legendary Pea Pod Morrie Vaseo, and her own abilities had launched her sailboat from the rocks just north of the kickball field outside Koldok. Two of her friends were in ferries that ran from Dvareka to Uscat and from Uscat to Hore, because she had plotted this is where she would end up. Her friend had ropes to throw her if she failed to grab the ferry chain.

However, in trimming her small sail to take her around the bulge at Dudor instead of splashing into the cliffs there as much of the current did, she overcompensated and wound up arcing west. An exiting tide between Hamsa and Hore deposited her into the deeps east of Jaskinia: A body of water that was most definitely not Morrie Vaseo. One of her friends on the ferry had run for help, and lighters had been sent out to spot her. She was trying to steer toward a small bay off Mbili Kilima when they found her. A harness on a long rope was dropped to her, and the pilot -- Abbo, as it turned out -- had to use the loudspeaker very insistently before the teenager buckled herself into the rescue gear and allowed herself be lifted away from her boat.

Abbo climbed to altitude with urgency, because from the cockpit she could see leviathans gathering near the surface. Once her dangling bait was beyond the 30 meter mark, Abbo's copilot had reeled in the teenager. They stayed stationary over the deeps long enough for the youngster to watch, shivering, as her small craft was overturned and mangled to small clumps of aluminum by disappointed levs.

There was thick horror in Maar's voice as she told this story. "She not only risked the lives of the pilots who had to go after her, it's quite possible this will bring unwanted leviathan attention to our inland bays and cortices" she said. "There isn't a law to charge her with, but Api's working on one already."

"Thing is" said Pank "If she'd stayed in the waters around the Pea Pods, instead of crossing over that reef to the south, she could've sailed around safely all day long."

Maar looked at her disapprovingly. "I really hope that kind of conjecture isn't being bandied about among the river sailors" she said.

Tu said slyly "But if watercraft expertise became generalized, and a protective chain, maybe, was extended along the reefs on either end, folks could travel from Dvareka to the Pods by individual boat. No more need for ferries, or even as much lighter deliveries."

"Nothing will ever replace the Lofthall" said Maar firmly, and Pyosz felt like she heard an echo of Mill in Maar's voice.

After emptying most of the platters, a short rest in the shade, and visits to the privy, the tree-folk returned to their industry. Maar and Pyosz did dishes together, and Pyosz showed Maar how to mix softened butter with rosemary to stuff beneath the skins of her capons before roasting. They collaborated on a slaw of cabbage, carrots, and cauliflower; sauteed criminis in butter and aged vinegar to pour over a heaping bowl of rice; sliced zucchini bread onto a platter with goat cheese; and steamed carrots before drenching them in allspice-seasoned butter.

"All right, let's fit the perishables somehow in the coldbox, we can leave the rest on the counter" said Pyosz. "I hope the Lofthall knows they're paying for cooking lessons."

"They don't, but they ought to be happy about it" said Maar.

"Don't get huffy, but I'm intrigued by the idea of sailing on an open-water boat" said Pyosz as they went through the kissing gate."

"I tried it once on the river" admitted Maar in a near whisper. "It was as much fun as flying."

The aged walnut and two other trees had been felled, roughly trimmed, and were being winched toward the sledge, lined up like pencils in a box, Pyosz thought. Tu had a tape measure against the side of the maple, inspecting it from every angle. Finally she said to Pank "I'm going to say 22 feet, right here", and she drew an imaginary line on the bark. "If I'm wrong, Nk will never shut up about it."

"You got that right" said Pank. She stepped back as Tu started her chainsaw and began severing the maple into two halves. When she was done, the crew of four pushed with all their might to roll the upper half of the trunk a few inches over so Tu could look at the heartwood she'd just cut into. She ran her hands over the sappy surface and grinned hugely, giving a thumbs' up to Pank. She turned to Pyosz and said "You get half this wood, you know. It's magnificent stuff, and you can't sell it. You oughta think about having Nk and Frahe make you some furniture."

To put where? thought Pyosz. Pank and Tu now settled in to decide on a loading order for the sledge, as the other two crew members continued cutting branches into logs. Tu had said everything but twigs and bark would be taken back to Mti; smaller wood debris would be used for making charcoal or sawdust. There would still be clean-up to do in the pasture for Pyosz, including watering down drag gouges, filling in dangerous spike holes, and she didn't know what to the crushed grass under the sledge itself. But all those wide board lengths of perfect maple will be mine she thought.

She and Sey had intended to have a Manage and had talked about furnishing it. That seemed discordantly remote now, that part of her life. She felt like the teenager in the sailboat, having struck out into what she had felt was a good plan, only to need rescue in very short order. She felt saved from the life she would have tried to lead with Sey. I hope Abbo didn't make caustic remarks to that young woman watching the leviathans below them thought Pyosz But, being Abbo, she probably had.

Pyosz walked down her pasture to the northeastern corner, beyond the water tank, where goats had gathered to watch interlopers and machinery with alarmed suspicion. She sat down on a rock at the base of the escarpment and immediately one kid came to lean against her knee, another doe to accept rubs of her ears.

"I know, loud monsters and goat-eating foresters trampling all your lovely grass, huh" commiserated Pyosz. "You knew all along nothing good comes from those woods." When Boulder came within reach, Pyosz scratched her back in the place she liked and said "I'm looking after you. You can tell them by milking time, all this kerfuffle will be gone."

A few minutes later, one of the crew came to the tank to lean over and drink the icy water dripping steadily from the well-feed above. Pyosz looked around at her and shouted "Molars, NO!" She lunged just in time to shove the goat jaw back from its destination, the woman's bent-over rump. The crew member wheeled, pressed her back against rock and said "Are they all biters, then?"

"No, just the one. She's incorrigible, though. Killer, no!" One of the kids had stood up against the crew member, trying to reach the fuschia-colored kerchief at her neck. Pyosz had at first been baffled by a kid named Killer on Ferk's list. But this small, affectionate goat went into a frenzy whenever she saw a bug on the ground, bringing her two front feet together as she reared back on her hind feet and then crashed down onto the insect in a chitin-splattering frenzy. Killer's other quirk was a passionate attraction to bright colors.

Pyosz waved her hat to get Killer's attention now. "Come on over here, Killer, you sweet baby. I know, it's hard to resist those urges, isn't it?" Killer dropped back to the ground and came to lean her forehead against Pyosz's shoulder. Pyosz kissed her flat little cheek.

The crew member backed away from the flock several yards, then hurried to her striped-hair coworker. She leaned in to tell her something. Several does and kids had come to crowd around Pyosz for reassurance, and the coworker gave her a narrow glance before whispering back to Fuschia Kerchief. Pyosz muttered to herself "Thus the Capriste Sorcerer legend is born."

Maar involved herself with the loading, she and Pank arguing down the other crew members about weight and stability. She heard Maar say heatedly "If this sledge shifts while I'm 40 meters up with it, I can die, do you get that? We're not talking cartons of ikan here." When it was finally stacked and lashed down with straps and metal netting to Maar's satisfaction, long chains were attached to each corner and a four-point carry system created, again using Tu's tape measure and Pank's eye.

Maar said "I can drop my hooks 35 feet, but you're going to get toasty clamping these chains on."

"We'll take turns" Tu said to Pank. They went to the seawater hose and wet down the upper halves of their bodies as Maar walked to the jichang. Pyosz came to stand by the seawater hose in case she needed to douse pasture or cousin from jet combustion. When finally the sledge cleared ground without a lurch to one side or any wobble, they all cheered vociferously. Pyosz looked her goats' way, hoping this outburst didn't drive any of them over the cliff. Maar sedately headed north, to gain altitude before turning toward Mti.

"Uh-oh" said Pank. Pyosz looked at the sinner in panic, and Pank said "Got some smoke here." She calmly took the hose from Pyosz and turned it on an incipient blaze. After three thorough inspections, Pyosz decided there were no other danger spots.

"I have to go milk" she said.

"We're gonna hit the hot springs" said Tu.

"If one of you walks back with me, I'll give you towels, soap, and a bucket to rinse with" said Pyosz. Fuschia-Scarf accompanied her. At the kissing gate, Pyosz turned to the stream of goats who were trotting in her direction and said "Line up nicely, now. For all your good behavior today, you're getting extra cracked corn in your dinner." They followed her to the barn uncustomarily close and quiet. She left them behind closed doors for a minute to supply the wide-eyed crew member, adding two clean shatis for Tu and Pank to change into. She tended the chickens, fed and sequestered her katts, and before returning to the barn, she squinted down the pasture, once again making sure there were no small curls of smoke anywhere.

Maar returned before she was done milking. "Set the table again?" she offered.

"Yep. Nothing needs heating up" said Pyosz. She inspected the pasture one last time in the dusk before returning to her kitchen after milking. She said "Since I didn't get to the hot springs today..." as she pulled her shati over her head. Maar didn't watch as she showered, but she didn't make a production of looking away, either. She ducked into her cabin to dry off and dress -- she hadn't done her usual level of labor today, yet she felt worn out. From the strain of watching grand old trees die, I guess she thought.

As they all sat down to eat, Curds gave a long wail from inside the cabin door.

"They smell this chicken" said Maar. Pyosz yelled at the cabin "You had your raw egg, give it a rest." Fuschia-Kerchief looked at the cabin as if she thought it might be stacked to the rafters with bloodthirsty katts.

Over the meal, Maar told the story of how the Saya Island owl had come to visit Pyosz her second day there. She got up to show its wing span, and then pointed to a cleaver gouge Pyosz had accidently left in the table surface as "where its talons dug in as it landed in the pitch black". Pyosz didn't correct her. She saw the two crew members exchange a significant glance with each other then, and again when Tu said "You have a magic hand with herbs, Pyosz", her chin shiny from chicken grease.

After pie and milk, Pank said to Maar "I wonder if I can ask you for one more favor today. We'd like a little time alone with our cousin. Could you run these folks to Mti and come back for us afterward?"

"No problem" said Maar. As Maar walked her passengers to the jichang, Pyosz heard her saying "That's the giant owl tree right over there, the big oak. Maar walks me to my lighter after dark, because she seems to be sympatico with it."

Pank opened her carryall and said "Oh. Forgot about this." She handed Pyosz a latch that could be bolted to her cabin door. "Couldn't find a keyed one. Not a lot of keyed latches on Pya" she said.

"It's mostly just so I can sleep knowing somebody has to knock to join me" said Pyosz, thanking her. Pank was pulling something else from her carryall, a thick fold of paper which she started to spread on the table.

"Hang on" said Pyosz, "Let me wipe up spills." The paper was a detailed topographic map of Herne Island.

"We've asked Api to give us Herne" said Tu, her eyes gleaming. "For a Manage, and some particular tillaging we want to do. Nk and Frahe will move there with us. But it means our access to Koldok will be by ferry to Saya and walking through your end here to your ferry, and we want to be sure that's okay with you first."

Several things fell into place for Pyosz. "Are you serious? Okay with me, I'd be utterly thrilled!" she said, jumping to hug them. "Has Api said yes yet?"

"No, but she will if it's good with you" said Pank. She began pointing to the map. "See, we don't even need a pylon for the ferry, it's such a short gap, just a couple of docks and a chain. Thing is, Nk and Frahe already have to use lighter delivery for their wood and furniture, so it don't matter where they are. And we're retiring -- "

"Overdue for it" said Tu.

"And what we'll be doing won't need much hauling, either" said Pank.

"Is this your Manage?" asked Pyosz, pointing to a large square drawn in pencil on the map.

"Lev, no" laughed Tu, "we don't need a warehouse. Here's the Manage in the southeast corner, overlooking Pea Pod Kuono. Nope, this big 'un is our greenhouse; this is Nk and Frahe's woodworking shop and lumber shed, this is Pank's smokehouse, this is the tillage and chickenhouse, the well, water-tank, geo shed, and toolshed."

"We're leaving the woods except for what has to come down for health reasons" said Pank. "We'll plant more fruit and nut trees. We're going to fence the tillage in very tight and let pigs roam free, have twice a year slaughter, I'll make sausage and smoke bacon for income."

"Greenhouse?" said Pyosz, excited. Though not as excited as they were, she could see. "Oranges and bananas?"

"More specialized" said Tu. "Now's the market time to go for what the ejida only provides in limited quantity. So -- cinnamon and vanilla trees, avocado, cacao, ginseng, nutmeg, wasabi, lemongrass, star anise, cloves, cardamom, and if there's room in the right cycle, saffron."

"The vanilla and cloves alone will pay for the greenhouse cost in five years" said Pank. "Time-consuming horticulture but easy on the body and very lucrative."

"We're putting in two stories to the Manage, taking the downstairs bedroom and, get this -- "

"Indoor privy!" they said in unison, laughing heartily.

"Plus three bedrooms upstairs" said Pank. "We don't think Frank will want to stay on Skene, it's too crowded there. Offering her a Pea Pod to inherit will get her back home."

Ah, the main reason for this plan thought Pyosz. "This looks glorious" she said. "And having you within shouting distance will be even more glorious. But -- I have to remind you, I won't be here that much longer."

Pank grinned at Tu. "We'll take our chances. Don't tell anyone until it gets finalized, all right? We're going to ask to share the cost of geothermal survey and installation with those folks immigrating Kacang Island, because it's a levvin 2.2 eks per day to get a guild-certified person from Skene to do the work. And they charge the same rate for their travel time. We figure we can halve that, at least, by having her do more than one installation while she's here."

They were still going over the map when the sinner began landing again. "It's okay if Maar knows" said Tu. "She knows how to keep a secret. We don't need to rush off, either."

They made more tea and ate a little more pie as Maar got filled in. When Pyosz yawned, however, Maar began washing dishes for the second time that day. Pyosz pulled from her coldbox leftover stewed hen as she said "You leave tomorrow moning for Skene, right? I'll pack you a lunch."

Maar said "In the interest of balance between cousins, will you please make the same for Abbo?"

"Of course" said Pyosz, abashed she'd needed a nudge. She made chicken salad, mixing in the remaining slaw and roasted pecans, piling it thickly on multigrain bread. To each lunch box she added pickled radishes, celery sticks filled with spicy bean paste, ripe plums, jam tart cookies, and some of her precious smoked eel.

"Here's my mail for Skene" she said, putting a bundle of envelopes on the lunchbox. "And these packages have jars of jam in them, don't sling them about, please."

Tu took the envelopes address to Halling and Lawa, adding notes from herself on the back. Pank refreshed her tea and watched the interaction between Pyosz and Maar.

"You didn't get to see my latest pictures yet, but I've included a shot of you in your cockpit to Thleen, is that all right?" asked Pyosz.

"Yep, thanks for checking. What's Bunteen Thleen up to this week?" said Maar.

"She dive-bombed a fluffy white katt to steal fur for decorating her nest" said Pyosz. "The white katt was livid but alas unable to sprout wings and give chase."

"Curds is going to demand redress, perhaps a strip titled 'Words Against Birds by Curds'" said Maar.

"Curds' notion of a comic would be only stalking and evisceration" said Pyosz.

"I can't wait to see how Qoj's photographs from the other night turn out" said Maar, scrubbing the casserole pan.

"I didn't get to spend enough time with her this visit" complained Pyosz.

Maar grinned over her shoulder at Pyosz. "She invited Uli to dinner tonight at her emmas' Manage."

Tu chuckled and said "Dodd seems easy to get around, but I'd hate to have to pass her inspection." Pank nodded, opening her claspknife to pick delicately at her teeth.

"I'm going to use my awake time this flight to pick Qoj's brain about black holes" said Maar.

"Well, try to memorize what she says so you can teach me, I'm still very confused about it all" said Pyosz. She handed a pie tin to Pank, saying "This is two pieces of each kind, for you plus Nk and Frahe. Return the tin when you can, please. Oh, and here's a loaf of bread for your own lunch tomorrow."

Maar hung her dishtowel over a chair to dry. They all walked to the jichang together, carrying toolboxes, parcels, and lunchbox. Past the chicken run, their heads turned in unison to inspect the silhouette of the owl oak against a starry sky.

"You know" remarked Pyosz, "Abba Halling has a set of night-vision binoculars. I think I'll borrow them sometime."

After seeing off the sinner with "Carynn bye" and "See you on Shmonah", Pyosz returned to her kitchen and began loading a crate with jars. It took her three trips to empty her kitchen larder of preserves into the new toolroom larder. A few kids stood in the doorway, watching curiously.

She lifted away the lower shelf, exposing its secret slide. She emptied her pockets onto the shelf and sorted through her cash, finally convincing herself if she was rigorous about barter for a while, she could afford to lay away an entire ek in two rows of brass tenth-ek coins. Once her bank shelf was replaced, she stood with her kids, hands on her hips, and said "Look at that. Ready for the future." She immediately made the flinging sign to ward off hubris, and went to her cabin.


© 2009 Maggie Jochild.

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Summary only...

PYA: CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

(Map of Dvareka on Pya, not completely filled in. Click on image to enlarge.)

To begin reading this sci-fi novel or for background information, go to my Chapter One post here. To read about the background of the first novel, read my post here, which will also direct you to appendices.

For more detailed information, posted elsewhere on this blog are:

Pya Dictionary from Skenish to English (complete up to present chapter), with some cultural notes included
Pya Cast of Characters (complete up to present chapter)
Map of Pya with Description of Each Island
Map of Skene (but not Pya)
Map of Saya Island and Environs When Pyosz First Arrived
Skene Character Lineage at Start of Pya Novel
Skene, Chapter One (With Cultural Notes in Links)


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A few minutes later, they loaded their plates and returned to the pond to eat with gusto. Qoj said "This is how you feast every Shmonah?" and Pyosz earned a look of gratitude from Dodd when she said "Yes. Incredible, isn't it?"

Maar said "Pyosz has promised to teach me how to cook, so the mysteries of this lamb flavor, for instance, hopefully will be unlocked for me."

"Congratulations" said Nk. Abbo didn't look so pleased. Oby said to Qoj "At what point will you officially be called an astronomer and able to transport your skills elsewhere?"

Qoj grinned at the implication. "Well, that's the question, since the idea of an astronomer existing away from Astronomer Poke has never arisen before."

"What benefit would it give Pya to have you here?" asked Frahe. "I mean, aside from all of us wanting you in our midst."


"Space above us holds endless clues and science about how Skene as a planet is organized" said Qoj. "We could use more satellites, and I'd like to help plot those orbits. Weather, of course, is integral to Pya's function, and the current meteorology coming out of Skene isn't nearly as detailed as someone on the ground here could produce. And, I suppose, there's abba's whole Bulwark system, which at present will offer warnings only to Skene."

"Bulwark?" asked Maar. "We studied that in school -- something about providing for contingencies like a meteor strike? Or epidemics?"

Api explained around a mouthful of rib. "Pya's land mass offered a new look at how we, as a critically small population, could possibly survive dire circumstances. Epidemic has been the constant threat, yes, but also the fear of tidal waves resulting from underwater seismic events or a space object crashing into the ocean. Yoj set up a chart of scenarios and how we could prepare against them, researched by experts in various fields. It was voted into law when you were a child, Maar."

Mill added "It's scramble code green in pilot emergency training."

"Ah" said Maar, making the connection.

"You know" said Qoj, "The current theory about what happened to the first colonists here on Pya has moved away from thinking they encountered some organism from water or soil that triggered the illness that killed them. Most gakushas now believe a meteor stroke introduced a pathogen to Pya, which lived as long as its host humans lived, but disappeared when they all died."

Everyone looked at her in speculation. "That's a somewhat comforting notion" said Dodd. "Means we're not going to accidentally dig up the same virus or whatever when a new field is plowed."

"Or mine opened, or well sunk" said Ollow. "Any proof for that theory?"

"Not yet" admitted Qoj. "The original records being so scanty. Anyhow, if I can get a clear night while I'm here, I've brought a special camera to take detailed photographs of the stars visible from this hemisphere. With luck, I'll surpass what exists and guarantee an advanced degree for myself."

Maar began asking interested questions about this project, and Pyosz excused herself to get seconds of turkey and melon. Api followed her and they stood talking by the table for a few minutes. Api went into her office and returned with a sheaf of forms for Pyosz to sign. Pyosz put her copies with her crates inside the door before returning to the pond.

Dodd turned to her and said "We were talking about Mchele Fair, which is a major event here on Pya. You should enter some of your products in the cooking competitions."

Briel said to Tu "Are you doing the tree-cutting race again this year?"

"Yep" said Tu. "Pank's entering bacon and sausage, Nk and Frahe both have furniture to display, and at least one of the folks we work with is going to try for a pig-calling ribbon."

"Is it an all day affair, then?" asked Pyosz. Abbo laughed, saying "It's almost four full days. Starts on Ot after work with plays and a few demonstrations, then goes through Market Day -- "

"With the emma of all markets" grinned Mill.

"Competitions in everything you can name -- " continued Abbo, but she was overtaken by several voices saying "Sheep shearing", "Chicken plucking", "Turkey calling", "Log tossing". Pank said "There's a milking race, which is mostly sheepherders but you could hop in and show 'em how it's done, I bet."

"Maybe for the fun of it" said Pyosz. "I'm not prize-winner material. Not yet."

Abbo reclaimed her thread. "Then Roku after dinner is the all-Pya kickball championship game."

"Which ends badly, no matter who wins" said Api.

"Sju is when awards are given out for arts and crafts, plus the carnival is in full swing" said Abo. "That night is the dance. Then on Shmonah, folks get up late but there's a picnic midday at the fairgrounds, with singing and speeches afterward."

"I can't wait" said Pyosz, thinking about the apricot jam she'd been making with a dash of almond extract in it for a lovely kick of something different.

"So you're here through summer's end?" said Qoj. "Are you living in that metal shack Ferk had?"

"A little less shackified, but yes" said Pyosz. "You have to come see what I've done with the place."

"I found Ferk a little frightening when I was small" said Qoj. "She seemed like part goat herself."

There was an awkward silence. Pyosz said "The fact is, Saya Island is really enough work for a Manage, not just an individual, even a young one like me. She did what she could, and I'm able to handle more in large part because I'm getting serious help from family. And friends" she added, smiling at Maar.

Abbo said to Qoj, in a not-quite-joking voice, "Maar has a bad case of volunteeritis, which usually gets focused around the Lofthall, where she's always sniffing after extra work from my emmas, but since Pyosz got here, she's over at Saya every day pretending to be an ejija worker."

The awkward silence returned. Ollow broke it by saying "Ngall's second baby is due in three weeks, she wrote us. Our second great-grandchild!"

Conversation flowed from there to more singing, another swim, and even a brief nap for Pyosz before she put on her otos again and stood to say "Well, maybe I'm part goat now, too, because I swear I can hear them calling me."

"Let's make you a plate for dinner, we've got so much leftovers" said Oby. Maar stood as well and said "Can you make it two plates? I don't like Pyosz going off to work and eat alone every Shmonah while we get to stay here with each other, so I'm going to volunteer to help her and share her day-off meal afterward." Her wide grin took some of the sting out of her emphasis on volunteer. The vibratto in Pyosz's chest went nearly still when Maar followed this by bending to Qoj, putting her hand on Qoj's shoulder and saying confidentially "I'll be back for our plans by 8:00."

Be happy with what you get Pyosz said to herself sternly. She and Maar each carried a crate and a covered plate to the ferry. On Saya, Maar put food in the oven to stay warm and said "I'll do the chickens and katts."

"Curds and Ember are going to start thinking you're their second emma" said Pyosz, embarrassing herself which she covered by walking to the pasture gate. As they sat down to eat, Maar said "That was very generous of you, what you had to say about Ferk."

"I meant it" said Pyosz. "I can imagine a big Manage here, over there on the north end with a view of Teppe Wasa, and a family full of children thinking this is paradise." They chewed in silence for a while.

"Leave the dishes" said Pyosz. "Seriously, you have other commitments, don't you?" She wanted to know what Maar had planned with Qoj. But Maar didn't offer the information. Instead, she said "I hope this isn't presumptuous, but can I stay long enough to see what your family sent you?"

"That would be fun" said Pyosz. The first crate held more books and a separate carton which contained the lava rocks for her grill she had requested. Maar stared into the box and said "You asked for these? Did you fill out the request forms -- I can't believe you got a permit this fast."

"For what?" said Pyosz, bewildered.

"Importing any kind of rock from Skene is very strictly controlled" said Maar.

"Even this much? I mean, it's not for construction, it's for my grill" argued Pyosz.

"That counts as construction. Whew. This means me and Abbo participated in the commission of a crime" said Maar. She was grinning.

"Shit. So I suppose I better turn it in and suffer the consequences" said Pyosz. "I had no idea."

"Or...you could tell your emma and abbas to not breathe a word of it -- I mean, Bux surely knew this was breaking rules -- and keep the lid on your grill pit when people come over" said Maar. "I won't tell Abbo if you don't."

They giggled together. "Fair enough" said Pyosz. "Help yourself to books, by the way."

The second crate had potholders, tongs, and some new napkins, plus several beautiful old copper pots with lids, ranging from butter-melting size to tall stock pots. Pyosz sat down, overcome with affection for those who loved her so well.

"They looted their own kitchens for these, plus -- I think bought a few used" she said, examining each pot in detail. "This will make a huge difference in my cooking. These tin and aluminum relics from Ferk are now destined for candle-making and other ejida chores."

Inside the stock pot, padded with a sheep's fleece that Pyosz knew the katts would appreciate, were several packages of smoked eel, two mangos, and a pound of chocolate nibs. "If I wasn't stuffed to the gills, I'd be alternating bites of eel with bitter chocolate" said Pyosz.

"Please invite me when you do" said Maar. "Well, I sure wish you were going with us, but I better get back."

"What do you mean?" said Pyosz. "You didn't invite me on whatever it is."

"But you were there when she talked about it, weren't you?" said Maar. Pyosz shook her head, feeling relief travel down to her toes. "Qoj wants me to take her up above the cloud layer to get high-altitude photographs of the night sky. She's not sure if they'll be as clear as ground-based photography because of the motion, but I promised to keep it as smooth as I can. We'll be out until midnight, so I understand if you can't stay up that late. Still..." Maar looked at her hopefully.

"Is Abbo or Dodd going?"

"No, just me and Qoj."

"Oh, lev, count me in, I can't miss this" said Pyosz, hoping her own motivations were as pure as she pretended. Maar danced a jig step and said "Go bundle up, every warm thing you've got. We can't turn on the heater. And no thermos of tea, it might steam up the windows. It'll be uncomfortable before we're done."

"I don't care" said Pyosz.

"Then I'll go pick up Qoj and we'll stop at the jichang for you in a few minutes" said Maar.

Pyosz dressed in layers, two pair of sokken, her red cap and manteau, leaving her lamp light on for when she returned. She grabbed her own camera and binoculars before skipping to the jichang when she heard the small sinner overhead.

It was a night she'd remember the rest of her life. The three of them, chilled by spectacle as much as by the thin air, bonded closely as Qoj talked stream of consciousness about what she was seeing, what it meant, physics asking as many questions as it answered inside her head. Maar would turn off the lights on her instrument panel to improve Qoj's photographs, flying by feel alone, giving Pyosz her first inkling of how very good a pilot Maar was. Pyosz understood the curve of her home orb in a new way, and when they finally began dropping down to Pya again, the twinkle of lights filled her with a surge of emotion.

At the jichang, both Qoj and Maar crawled out to hug her exuberantly. "I have to get up in four hours" she laughed. "But I may not be able to sleep for feeling like I'm still falling into the heavens."

The next morning, her tiredness combined with a triple load of milk was brutal. She stopped in at Taamsas' to give her dimensions for a pot rack to go over her stove and table. As she was heading home, she ran into Qoj. They hugged again, Pyosz saying "I am so lucky, to have you for a cousin!"

"I feel the same way, you made the whole night perfect" said Qoj. "Although that Maar, she certainly is dishy. But we both know she only has eyes for another, huh?" She winked at Pyosz, and Pyosz managed to keep smiling. She said "If you're free, come out for lunch, I'll make something half-goaty."

Qoj laughed and said "Actually, I'm meeting Uli at the cafe for lunch. Another dishy one, Koldok has certainly improved since I lived here."

Fast mover indeed thought Pyosz, and this time it was easy to keep her grin. "Have fun, then. See you soon."

At her kitchen, she ached for a nap but first called the Genist Manage to thank them for her packages. She recounted to Prl the events of the previous day and evening in an excited voice. At one point she said "It's funny, I remember you and your emmas talking about Bulwark a lot when I was little, but I guess it's not such a worry now. Nobody mentions it" said Pyosz.

"It was on my mind daily for several years, that's true" said Prl.

"There would be a signal sent out over Sigrist Radio, right? That we were all supposed to seek shelter or something? And when I started school, you and I began having those fun races every week. I swear, emma, I think that's where I got my endurance and strong legs, from trying to improve my time each Roku afternoon." Pyosz chuckled.

Prl did not. The first weekend after Pyosz had begun first grade, Prl took her to the schoolyard and said "All right, this is a let's-pretend game. The notice has just come over the radio that everybody needs to find safety. Your leraar knows that for you, that means coming home to our Manage, okay? So you simply stand up and run out the door, don't try to get your burzaka or anything else, just start running. I'm going to be up the lane timing you. Don't start until I yell 'Go', because that will be the signal on the radio." Prl walked halfway to the Genist Manage and called down the lane "Now, Pyosz! Run as fast as you can!"

Pyosz fell a few times, but learned to scramble to her feet and keep going, her chubby legs churning as fast as they could. Prl would be calling encouragement and there was always a wild grin on Pyosz's face. Prl would be watching a timer in her hands, and when it dinged, she would come forward to meet Pyosz, swinging her up into her arms and saying fervently "That was wonderful, darling, you were even faster than last week, I'm so proud of you!" The intensity in those embraces was Pyosz's reward.

Each year, Pyosz could get farther before the timer bell rang. Until finally, halfway through second grade, she was able to burst breathlessly into the Genist Manage kitchen where Prl was standing, and they both gave a shout as the bell rang. They didn't practice any more after that.

"What was I racing against, emma? You must have had some particular goal in mind, although for me it was just against the timer" asked Pyosz.

Prl hesitated before answering. "Emma -- Yoj -- had several hypothetical scenarios worked out. One involved a tsunami approaching Skene, and the best-case scenario of daylight hours and a Sigrist facing the right direction or a pilot calling it in, giving us enough warning to seek higher ground. I used that timetable."

"But why was the Genist Manage considered higher ground? I mean, it's at the top of the lane, but that's only what, 15 feet or so?" puzzled Pyosz.

"The vault inside the Shatters, used by both Genist and Archivist -- aside from the waterproof, blast-proof doors protecting records, Contributions, and a biological archive with frozen DNA for all our essential plants and animals -- there's a chamber at the top, with built-in water and energy supply, food and medicine. It will hold maybe four survivors through almost any calamity, if they can get there in time. The lift to it is in the vault itself." Prl's tone was grim.

"So -- I was running to get to that chamber? Stars, emma. I'm glad I didn't know" said Pyosz. "Who else were among the lucky few allowed to use it? Yoj, I gather."

"If she was at the Archives, yes" said Prl. "The botaniste from across the street here. Our mandate was to have the training necessary to help restart life on Skene. It's in my contract, was added in once the Bulwark program was executed."

Pyosz's brain was working hard. "Except -- I wouldn't have been in your contract, would I, emma? I mean, my survival could not be considered essential to restarting Skene."

"No" said Prl softly. "That was my decision, to include you. Because I wasn't willing to go on without you."

"But emma, I wasn't able to reach the entrance to the vault for what, six years of constantly working at it? All that time, you were facing having to close the door against me if I didn't make it?"

"I was not facing that, no. I would never have left you to face the approaching wave alone" said Prl.

"In other words, you chose me over your sworn duty to Skene" whispered Pyosz.

"It was an easy choice" said Prl.

"That's why -- that day I finally made it to the Manage on time, we were screaming and jumping around, and then all of a sudden, you were crying, picking me up like I was still a toddler and holding me a little too night. It really scared me, I remember. Oh, emma." Pyosz felt her heart break a little, realizing what Prl had been suffering through. After several seconds, Pyosz said "And now here I am, half a world away."

"The contradiction of being an emma is that for the first two years of your child's life, you have not a single second where you're not thinking about them, completely beholden to them because they depend on you utterly. Then, once they start reaching for independence, you spend the rest of your life in progressively more difficult lessons about how to let go of their hands" said Prl.

"Well, emma, the part of Saya Island where I live is at least 20 feet above the water" said Pyosz. As it came out her mouth, she realized that was not high enough. She continued "And from my cabin, I can see an ancient oak that's big around as a room, with roots down into bedrock and a height that tops 50 feet. And I'm really good at climbing trees. Whatever it takes, emma, I'll survive and I'll find a way back to Skene, so you go into the vault and ride that lift up, you hear me?"

Prl laughed. "Getting back here probably won't be the major obstacle. Pilots are scrambled into the air first thing, under the Bulwark plan, to save craft and provide rescue vehicles."

Pyosz allowed herself a brief thought of Maar and jubilation at her likely survival.

Prl continued "But now I'm worried about you climbing such massive trees. Bulwark is a doomsday plan, sweetheart, not something we need to actually keep in our thoughts."

"Then why was it so prevalent for a while there, I wonder?" asked Pyosz.

"Pya was being settled, and for the first time in Skene's history, we could hope for secure longevity. Plus -- for me, you were heading out into the world, not tucked into this Manage with us all the time any more. You were a bold and curious child. The race back to my arms seemed symbolic, somehow" said Prl.

After the call, Pyosz took a two-hour nap, waking up hot but rested. She rinsed her head under the tap and plunged into the next item on her long-term list. Pyosz made small flags from baling wire and leftover tree flagging, and numbered them sequentially. She stuck pins with the same numbers on her map of Saya Island, and began taking soil samples, doing her end of the island first, then working her way from west to east. When she took a sample from a spot on the map, she put a flag in the ground at that spot. She didn't have hope that the goats would leave alone all the flags in the pasture, but for now, kids were following her from spot to spot.

She was halfway between the woods and the kissing gate when she heard Maar's voice call out "There you are" from the escarpment. Pyosz waved her down and explained what she was doing. Maar began carrying the basket into which Pyosz was putting her plastic bags of samples, marked with not only the labels Taamsas had given her but the appropriate flag number. They came to the low area where only gorse grew, now showing a small sheen of standing water.

"I should take two or three samples here" said Pyosz. She began six inches outside the "fallow" zone, then walked into the water a foot and struck her spade deep into the ground, pushing on it with her oto before turning over the soil. She crouched to look into the hole, saying "It's very wet, but oddly, it's paler further down in the hole. Moisture should increase darkness, I think." She dug the hole deeper, to almost eighteen inches, and deposited the definitely pale, dense soil she had turned up onto the puddle surface. She crouched again, taking some of the light grey-green soil between her fingers and kneading it lightly. She held it to her nose for a sniff, two sniffs. To Maar's astonishment, Pyosz then put her fingertips to her mouth and tasted the soil.

She fell back onto her rump, letting go of the shovel. "Oh, no" cried Maar, "Are you poisoned? Pyosz, can you stand up, let's get you to Briel."

Pyosz waved away her tugged. "It's okay, I'm fine. I'm just gobsmacked."

"Why? What is it?" Maar crouched beside Pyosz. Pyosz held out her fingers for Maar to sniff.

"Do you know what that is?" she asked.

"Dirt, wet dirt, that's all I can say for sure" said Maar.

"Try a taste. I promise, it won't hurt you" said Pyosz. Maar briefly touched her tongue to Pyosz's fingertip.

"I still don't know, although I have to admit, it's familiar" said Maar.

"That flavor is kaolin. This is clay, porcelain-grade clay, Maar. As good as anything I've seen on Skene." Pyosz stood again, measuring the fallow area with her eyes. "If this is what it looks like, a clay field, it's a major find." She picked up her shovel with a troubled expression on her face.

"Clay on Pya? Hooray!" cried Maar. "MIll's going to be ecstatic."

Pyosz took a single sample from the bottom of the hole she'd dug and decided not to take any more from the region. She walked silently on to the next quadrant of grassy pasture. Maar, following her, said "What's going on in your head? You look upset, not happy about this discovery."

"Well, I was just thinking about Argile and the clay fields there. Have you seen pictures before they rebuilt at least half the island? It was a waste zone. The clay was too badly needed to think about balance there, they just dug and dug until they hit bedrock 20 feet down." She looked at Maar with troubled black eyes. "I don't want them destroying Saya to get out the clay, here. It'll ruin this pasture, the goats will have to be moved elsewhere."

"Oh" said Maar.

"I'm tempted to not even turn in a soil sample, but they'd notice the gap eventually, since Uli is going to be mapping these results. Lev. I wonder if I could get her to keep quiet about it?"

After a minute, Maar said in a careful tone "I wouldn't count on that. Uli is ambitious, she won't play games with the law."

"Well, I'll have to talk to Mill and Api, I guess" said Pyosz. "I mean, I love clay for its own sake, don't get me wrong. I took two semesters of pottery making at the U, did I ever tell you that?"

"No" said Maar. "But I'm not surprised, you've got a strong artistic streak."

Pyosz smiled at her. "My habibi Ng was a keramiker, one of the best Skene's ever had. I took the first course simply as a break from geometry, which was busting my head that semester. But I turned out to have -- not just an aptitude for it, but a real affinity. It gave me serious happiness to shape clay. I'd have done more if I hadn't been involved with Sey and trying to follow her path instead of strictly my own." She numbered another soil sample and said "What are you doing here, anyhow? Hoping for a late lunch?"

Maar grinned. "I come to visit you for more than gastronomic reasons. But now that you mention it..."

"There's a pot of beans and sausage simmering on the stove. If you'll make a salad, and heat up either rice or cornbread, I'll finish the pasture and be there in 15 minutes" said Pyosz.

When she came to the kitchen to wash her hands, Maar had set the table and steamed some squash as well. "I see you went for the cornbread" said Pyosz. She made a swift dressing in mortar, relaying her thought process out loud so Maar could learn from it, and spooned it into a bowl they could dip from. After sitting, Maar took her hand and initiated the before meal thanksgiving her emma's Manage had always done. Pyosz closed her eyes until Maar squeezed her hand.

Over the meal, she told Maar about the conversation she'd had with Prl. Maar's eyes went wet and she said "I am so lucky to be around your family."

"I ran into Qoj in Koldok this morning" said Pyosz. She paused before saying "She has a lunch date with Uli."

Maar looked at her wide-eyed for a minute before giggling. "Whatever it would take to get her to move back to Pya. Did you see the hope on Dodd's face every time Qoj said something good about being here?"

"Speaking of hope, is there any chance of you getting Thleen here for a visit this summer?" asked Pyosz. She was instantly sorry, because Maar's face lost all its light.

"I won't stop trying, but it looks bleak" said Maar. "My emmas believe huolon flights are treacherous."

"Because of that crash, involving people they knew?" asked Pyosz.

"I'm sure that's a lot of it" said Maar. "But my family -- well, most of Chloddia -- I grew up hearing that the Lofthall is what began the Troubles, way back when on Skene. Pilots waged war, trying to assume control over all the colonists, and innocent people died as a result. People on Chloddia say 'They brought us here to work and nothing else', and perversely, they refuse to try to change that reality in whatever way it still exists. And the number one source of keeping the mining islands down, they think, is the Lofthall. Followed by Yanja and Riesig in general."

"Wow. Sucks for you, but it's also fascinating. Would it be all right with you if I asked my abba Yoj about that? I bet there's some truth to what you've heard, she's always excavating the cores of myths on Skene" said Pyosz. Maar nodded, her cheeks pink.

They cleared away lunch. Pyosz said "I haven't made new pies yet, but here's a quick sweet treat." She cut a few small squares of dripping comb and rolled them in chocolate nibs. Maar's eyes skidded shut after one bite. "That's such a complicated, head-pounding set of flavors" she whispered. When she left, she took Pyosz's soil samples to drop at the ejida for testing.

That evening, as another row of brightly-colored jam jars glinted in a row on the table, the radio buzzed. Pyosz answered to hear Halling "You got a minute? Something interesting happened today." Her voice was more animated than Pyosz had heard in a long time. Halling continued "You'll never guess who came to visit us."

Oh, lev. Not Sey thought Pyosz.

Halling didn't wait for Pyosz's guess. "That child Thleen you've menitioned -- the sibu of your friend the pilot?"

"No kidding" said Pyosz.

"Technically, her two sibas were with her, but they were unwilling lag-behinds. Thleen apparently recognized our door from some drawing you sent her and decided to knock as they walked by. When I answered, her sibas were trying to drag her away, mortified as only teenagers can be" said Halling, chuckling.

"What did you do, abba?"

"Well, she's a beautiful child, bright-faced and engaging" said Halling. "She said you were her friend, which was good enough for me. I asked 'em in and gave 'em tea with cake."

"Exactly what I would have done" said Pyosz.

"Yoj came home half an hour later, and then Bux. When Tlunu got up, we had a party going on. Thleen planted herself in Yoj's lap, that child magnetic zone, as you well know. Finally the sibas said their ferry was running again and they had to get home -- they'd missed the school sinner for some reason. But when Bux heard they had to go all the way to Chloddia, she asked Tlunu to give them a ride. Anyhow, it was quite a conversation. I told Thleen to come back any time."

"Abba, that means she will, I'm pretty sure" said Pyosz.

"I expect you're right" said Halling happily. "With Ngall quickening, we only get to see Ehall if we trek out to Pomar. It was a treat having a little one in the Manage for a while."

Pyosz talked with each of her abbas in turn and clicked off wishing she could walk down the lane and let herself in at that copper door with the cao on it.

The next day when Pyosz returned from Koldok, she slaughtered two more capons and a stewing hen. She put the plucked capon carcasses, cut up, into her coldbox and started stock in her lovely new pot. She decided to make a double batch of bread and pies because the following day she might be too busy with tree-removal to bake. In between punching-down and rolling-out, she worked on letters to Skene.

She'd just found room for all her baked goods in the larder when her radio buzzed.

"Hey" said Maar. "I'm at the fish docks, done sinning, and I'm headed to Mti to pick up the lumber order for your toolroom renovation. I thought I'd grab you some of today's catch to help feed your crew tomorrow, but it was a great run today, I can't decide. What are you in the mood for?"

They began discussing options, Pyosz enthusiastic about each new fish Maar named. Finally Maar said "You free for the next little bit? I could come get you, won't take but a jiff. Add to your seeing more of Pya quest."

"I'm ready now" said Pyosz. She put her camera and binoculars into her carryall and waited at her jichang.

At the fish docks, she settled on uo to smoke the next day, dagaa to make her own fermented fish sauce, and kahe for dinner that night. Maar put the iced crate in her sinner and said "You eat lunch yet? That stall over there has a memorable lentil sandwich. The bun is pedestrian, but the lentil patty is spicy like you'd do it. And their onion rings are made to order."

Maar got a side order to share of apple and celery salad with a quart of chilled lemonade. She led Pyosz up a fire escape ladder on an adjacent warehouse, sitting on a metal balcony overlooking the glassblowing works. "I found the food stall because I spotted the vetriste's from the air and wanted to watch, but I needed to eat at the same time" said Maar, crunching cheerfully and swinging her legs off the side of the balcony. "It's one of the most interesting views on Pya."

"This lentil patty beats anything I know how to put together" said Pyosz, trying not to wolf it down. "Best meal I've had so far on Pya." Maar looked very pleased.

They couldn't linger, though one of the glassblowers looked up to wave and grin at Maar. They returned the empty lemonade jug and flew from the docks in an arc over central Dvareka and Dudor, north again over Arta Island, and west toward Mti. Pyosz took photos whenever Maar banked to give her a good angle. As they traveled, Pyosz told Maar about Halling's call the night before.

At first, that worry furrow appeared in Maar's forehead. Pyosz stressed that her abbas were delighted to have Thleen visit, and Maar relaxed, saying softly "That's my Thleen."

On Mti, Pyosz helped Maar load her small order of pine, signed lading slips, and popped briefly into Nk and Frahe's shop to say hi before they returned to Saya by way of Teppe and Shu overflights. Pyosz stacked her boards at the side of the jichang and hastened Maar off, saying she'd already used up Maar's lunch hour.

After hauling her load to the barn, Pyosz went to her orchard and filled all the bushel baskets, moving meditatively in the early Mchele amber light, part of her mind trying to decode that lentil patty recipe.

The next morning, Pyosz stopped in Koldok only long enough to make her deliveries and have her photo disks printed. She made a post-milking breakfast of leftover kahe fried with eggs on toast, and was looking through her photos for a third time while finishing her tea when Pank and Tu arrived via a brief lighter drop-off.

"Maar says hi and she'll come for dinner later" said Tu. "Is that kahe?"

"Have a seat, you want your eggs over easy or hard?" said Pyosz. After her cousins ate, she showed her lava rocks in the grill to Pank, who laughed uproariously at Abbo having been made an unwitting smuggler. Pank showed Pyosz how to set up her grill for smoking, and Pyosz put on the grill three dozen herring marinated in basil-chili oil.

Tu and Pank had brought only basic hand tools and one portable electric saw this time. They listened to Pyosz's needs in the tool room, and Tu said "This won't be dovetailed or fancified like Nk'd do it. This'll be simply sturdy shelves, some with slide-out boxes to hold onions and the like in straw."

"Perfect" said Pyosz. She assisted as they directed her. When sorting the lumber for cutting, Pank said "Now look here, this plank is double thick and we ain't got the wherewithal to split it -- oh, here's why they did that." On the long end of the two-inch-thick board was a knot that penetrated into the width but didn't emerge on either face. Tu examined it and said "This deformity is at least 3/8 inch clear of the surface. We could chisel out the knot and shape a ilttle one-inch high cavity in there, for a shallow drawer, maybe."

""Don't have the tooks to make dovetails or runners for a proper drawer" pointed out Pank.

"So, just a flat box with leeway on either side, waxed to not jam" replied Tu. "A little secret place if she turns this edge of the shelf toward the wall" speculated Tu.

"If we peg it onto the shelf brace, nobody'd ever guess it'll lift right off so's you can get at the recess" agreed Pank. She said to Pyosz "You got a use for a little hidey-hole like that?"

"As a matter of fact..." said Pyosz, putting two fingers to her grinning lips in the "keep mum" sign. The hidey-hole was adroitly excavated by Pank, the shelves nailed in by Pyosz, and the edges hand-planed by Tu.

"Looks dang good" said Tu, casting an appraising eye from the doorway. Pyosz helped them wipe and put away tools before going to check her herring. She put in the oven a casserole she'd assembled earlier of wide rice noodles layered between cheese, milk sauce, and kale. With a large salad, pumpernickel toast, cold tea, and their choice of four different flavors of pie, she felt ready to feed her lunch crew.

But lunch and the others' arrival was still an hour off. Tu said to Pank "Shall we?" Pank draped a coil of rope around her shoulders, Tu pulled towels from her carryall, and they strolled through the kissing gate.

Pyosz had to follow, curious about how tree-climbing gear was going to be meshed with visiting the hot springs. Halfway across the pasture, Tu and Pank turned south, walking to the shingle beach and staring at the Pea Pod island named Herne which was only nine meters offshore, across a shallow but racing strait.

As Pyosz caught up with them, Pank tugged off her otos and dropped her kalsongers. She left on maillot and knickers, talking with Tu in sentence fragments about the rock face of the opposing small cliff on Herne, while Tu crafted a four-point harness ofrope around Pank's torso.

Pyosz was too stunned to object when Pank waded into the current, using her bare feet to feel her way. Midway, the depth was past Pank's waist, and Tu anchored her heels in the shingle, holding onto Pank's lifeline. She looked arond at Pyosz and said "Here, come lend a hand."

Pyosz complied, finding her voice to say "There's a jichang on it, you know, someone would be glad to fly you there." She kept her eyes obsessively on Pank, whose suddenly fragile-looking frame had reached the base of Herne's cliff and was now testing for fingerholds as she began her climb.

"We know" said Tu lightly. "We've been. But we thought we'd take the chance to look on our own."

Pank's drenched knickers, old and misshapen, hung almost to her knees. Pyosz was muddled with anxiety for her cousin. When Pank finally slithered over rocky lip onto solid ground of Herne, Pyosz gasped out loud in relief.

Pank was tying her end of the rope around the trunk of a hickory tree. Pyosz turned to ask Tu what Pank meant to do now, and was again silenced, this time by Tu stripping down. Tu folded her buksers neatly, removed a claspknife from one pocket and cut a length of rope to fashion a sliding harness. She tied this around herself, looped through it the long rope crossing to Herne, and anchored her end tightly around a boulder.

"You'll stand vigil, yes?" she asked Pyosz. Pyosz could only nod dumbly as Tu entered the current. Pank had both hands on the hickory belay, calling out occasional advice. Tu followed Pank's track up the cliff. With a wave to Pyosz, they vanished into the trees on Herne.

Pyosz decided she'd let her herring and casserole burn to a crisp rather than venture one inch from her post on the beach. The half-hour which passed was an ordeal for her. Once she heard a peal of Tu's laughter. As last they reappeared atop the cliff, and Pyosz now found it was even worse to watch Tu descend with the same slow care she'd displayed in her climb. Pyosz wanted to chastise her, say "You're over 80 years old, no matter how fit you are, bones turn brittle and hip sockets are delicate as china." Instead, she helped Tu coil in rope until Pank was blessedly back on shore.

Both the elders looked slightly blue-lipped from their adventure. Pyosz left them to dry and dress -- or, for all she knew, magically take flight by flapping their old woman arms -- while she returned to her meal preparation.

To her surprise, Maar landed at the jichang a few minutes later. She told Pyosz "I swapped my run for this, couldn't resist seeing those two fell trees. I owe another pilot more time next week." Pyosz didn't have a chance to tell Maar what "those two" had just done because they appeared around the corner of the barn.

"Do you need to go with me to pick up the sledge and come-along, or -- " began Maar.

"Nah, the crew can handle it. We'll serve better here in the pasture, directing your placement" said Tu.

"Well, back soon then" said Maar. Tu and Pank ambled with her toward the jichang, and Pyosz again followed. Past the chicken run, Pank looked left to the stand of trees towering there, taller than anything else on Saya. The central gargantuan was the oak Pyosz had mentioned to Prl as her haven against tsunami. In its shadow was the old fig tree, a chestnut, a maple, and a pecan.

Pank stopped abruptly, causing Pyosz to almost collide with her from behind. "I betcha that's it" she said to Tu. Tu looked at the cluster of trees and nodded.

Moving soundlessly, Pank walked north of the grove to enter it from that side, snaking back toward the rocky escarpment at its west. Tu was at her heels, alert. Pyosz and Maar looked at each other before following. The shade at the back of the oak was deep, and its spongy leaf-litter damp. Its bark was nearly black with age.

Pank stopped a meter away from an oaky tangle of roots and, sliding on her glasses, began scanning upward methodically. After a minute, she pointed with a very restrained motion.

What Pyosz had thought was a vast stain on the bark turned out to be, in fact, a wide hole, probably left by lightning some centuries before. The oak had survived its assault, growing upward around the opening to its heart.

Pyosz was terrified if she looked too long at this entrance, she'd see her great owl peer back at her with anger over its den being discovered. She reached beside her and found Maar's hand, lacing their sweaty fingers together tightly.

The owl did not appear, however. Pank signaled for them to back away, and Maar was quck to lead them back to full sunlight. Pyosz said "I won't be picking figs from that grove any more." Maar laughed a little manically and, swatting Pyosz goodbye on her shoulder, strode to her sinner.

The other three returned to the kitchen area. Tu said "Wonder how many layers of bone fragments there are in the hollow of that oak?"

Pyosz asked "The trees you've marked to cut down today -- they aren't going to bother any owls down there, are they?"

"Got it easy today" said Pank. She lifted the grill lid and helped herself to a herring, eating it whole with what Pyosz assumed were asbestos lips and tongue.


© 2009 Maggie Jochild.

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HUBBLE THURSDAY

(The "Colorful Moon" composite, explanation below. Click on image to enlarge.)

Every Thursday, I post a very large photograph of some corner of space. Usually these photos are captured by the Hubble Space Telescope and available online from the picture album at HubbleSite. Today, however, the image above is from Astronomy Picture of the Day, authored and edited by Robert Nemiroff (MTU) & Jerry Bonnell (USRA).

The explanation of this photograph is "The crazy, patchwork appearance of the false-color image makes this almost full view of the Moon's familiar near side look very strange. The Sea of Tranquillity (Mare Tranquillitatis) is the bright blue area at right, the Ocean of Storms (Oceanus Procellarum) is the extensive blue and orange area on the left, and white lines radiate from the crater Tycho at bottom center. Recorded in 1992 by the Galileo spacecraft en route to Jupiter, the picture is a mosaic of 15 images taken through three color filters. The image data were combined in an exaggerated color scheme to emphasize composition differences - blue hues reveal titanium rich areas while orange and purple colors show regions relatively poor in titanium and iron. Multicolor images exploring the Moon's global surface composition were made in 1994 by the Clementine spacecraft."

THE VOYAGE OF THE MOON

(by Donovan. When I was 13, I was wild about Donovan and even wrote him a fan letter. This song of his was on a Mary Hopkin album that I played constantly throughout my adolescence. Mary Hopkin sang this song on television just hours before Neil Armstrong took the first human-on-the-man step.)

The moon is like a boat, my love,
Of lemon peel afloat, my love,
And with a sail of gauze, my love,
She seems to slightly pause
Upon her silent way,
while on her silent way.

I see her pearly decks, my love,
Set in with diamond specks, my love,
I see her pearly mast, my love
Far from her seashell past
And gently does she sway
While on her starry way.

Of silk they have been spun, my love,
Her ropes that limply run, my love
Down to her carved prow, my love,
Down to her mermaid prow
And gently does she sway
while on her starry way.

She seems to linger long, my love,
As if spelled by a song, my love
But not, she tarries not, my love
Her journey unforgot
She makes her starry way,
She makes her starry way

All in the Sea of Sky, my love,
The moonships sail and fly, my love,
Though many are their kind, my love,
Though all need but one wind
To make their starry ways,
To make their starry ways.

And there will come a time, my love,
O may it be in mine, my love,
When men will proudly rise, my love,
And board to sail the skies
Moonships from all the spheres
Moonships from all the spheres.

The men be bathed in light, my love,
The women clothed in white, my love,
All in that wondrous fleet, my love,
As each the other meet
Will smile and softly sing,
Will smile and softly sing.

And on some distant sand, my love,
The ships will gently land, my love.
Fair folk will meet them there, my love,
With golden flowing hair
And great will be their joy,
And great will be their joy.

The moon is like a boat, my love,
Of lemon peel afloat, my love,
And with a sail of gauze, my love,
She seems to slightly pause...

Mary Hopkin singing this song as it is on my album -- stills, no live video.

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