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"You can say that to me," Sylvia said. "But not to Mary A
"Then where was she?" He screamed it. "Every night, every goddamned night I've had nightmares, waking up with that fucking monster blowing Ernst's blood in my face. I don't know why the hell it didn't just bite my head off. I don't know... "
The shepherd pup sensed fear and anger, and stood next to Cadma
"That looks... fresh," Sylvia said cautiously. Turkey? Samlon?
Where's the other dog?
He said, "There's a... critter living up in the rocks. Like a marmot. The dogs sniff ‘em out just fine." He paused. "It would be polite to invite you to supper, but I'm not feeling terribly polite right now. Why don't you just say your piece and leave?"
"I miss you..." Mary A
"Yeah. That's great. I can do a whole lot with that." There was a chorus of cheerful barks from the rocks at the northern periphery of the mesa, and another shepherd came bounding out, radiating good, healthy-puppy energy.
It ran up to Carlos and, wagging its tail, sniffed his crotch heartily, immediately gave the same treatment to Mary A
"Crotch sniffers of the world, unite!" Cadma
"Cadma
"I don't care now." He shrugged. "Maybe in a couple more weeks I'll give a shit, but probably not. Don't tell me about your goddamned problems. I like it up here just fine. Dogs have their instincts, you know? They don't cripple themselves up with what they want to believe, and I like that just fine. Why don't you just get your asses back down the mountain and leave me alone?"
"Cadma
"Get the fuck out of here!"
Carlos touched Sylvia's arm and pulled her back. "Ah,... amigo... is your radio working? If there's any kind of problem, anything we can do..."
Cadma
Sylvia turned, trying to hold the tears back. "Sylvia!" Cadma
"Yes?"
"You take care of yourself." Mary A
"Go on," he repeated. He stooped to pick up the flask. He shook it disgustedly, then tossed it aside again. "Me, I'm going to stay very very drunk until there's nothing left to drink."
The three of them returned to the Skeeter, but Mary A
"Mary A
"Can't you see him? He's killing himself up here. He really wants you,
Sylvia—"
Carlos wisely made no comment at all. Sylvia opened her mouth in protest, but Mary A
"Don't say it, Sylvia. Don't lie. He wants what he can't have." She stood up straight, a short, strong, pretty blond girl on the ripe edge of plumpness. A woman whose hibernation instability was far more subtle than Ernst's had been. But she was intelligent enough to know what was gone, and perceptive enough to know what was true between Sylvia and Cadma
"He can't say that he wants me to stay, but what is he going to do?
Throw me out? I can't climb down by myself and he knows it. Leave me here.
I'll be all right."
"I can't do that."
"Because you don't know what kind of man he is. Not really. I do. I know just what kind of man he is. You don't know him like I do."
For a long, hard moment they faced each other, then Carlos said. "All right. I expect to hear some kind of message from you or Cadma
"Fine."
Carlos entered his side of the Skeeter. Sylvia looked at Mary A
"It's changed all of us," Sylvia said quietly. "Maybe you're right.
Maybe you're the only one who knows him now."
She hugged Mary A
Mary A
They climbed into the Skeeter. The rotors whipped to life and Carlos levitated them, higher and higher and then to the east, until Mary A
Chapter 13
HOMESTEAD
The dwarf sees further than the giant when he has the giant's shoulder to mount on.
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, "The Friend"
Powdered eggs and powdered milk and freeze-dried bacon didn't seem to be a promising start for breakfast. But in combination with Mary A
Tweedledee and Tweedledum, the twin shepherds, padded quietly around the camp, tongues lolling pinkly, looking hopefully at the fire. They sniffed at the smoke but kept their distance. If they were very polite Cadma
A whiff of ocean salt stirred the leaves and dried grass on the mesa. Avalon's eternal mist was blown away for minutes at a time. From the edge of the mesa she could look down onto the flatland, where the Colony was distantly visible: a flash of solar cell banks, the dim, interlocking rectangles of the tilled and irrigated land. The far-off hum of a Skeeter tickled the air.
A protracted groan issued from the tent behind her, and she turned to watch Cadma
He glared at her, rubbing granular sleep from the corners of his eyes, and grunted, "What the hell are you doing here?"
She didn't let him see her flinch. "Cooking breakfast." She stirred the eggs and crumbled in another pinch of dried bacon crisps. Tweedledum, the male, crept up within a meter of the fire, drooling. Cadma
Both of Cadma
"You earned it. You finished off the vodka last night."
"No," he croaked, genuine distress in his voice. His voice sounded as if something small and struggling were trapped in his larynx. Cadma
He tossed it back, guzzling with short, choppy movements of his Adam's apple. Why do you do this to yourself? Doesn't matter. You'll have to stop now.
He tossed the canteen to the side to clank noisily against a pile of rocks. The dogs attacked him simultaneously from either side, yipping at him to play with them or feed them or any one of a hundred other doggy concerns.