"I am your mate," he said emphatically, their scents blending. She squeezed his hand, tears flowing freely down her beautiful face. "My mate, this promise is an undying flame. It will always be kindled and it cannot be extinguished," she said with a liquid fervor that made Doworn.o.bb's emotional bubble nearly burst with boundless ecstasy.

Stemming his exhilaration, Doworn.o.bb stared into her eyes and declared his love. "The promise is the marriage. The marriage is the promise. We are mated. I will file the necessary papers."

"We must keep them isolated," whistled Koop-the-facilitator. "They are boisterous and rude! They are unclean and they smell. We fear they may be evil!" The a.s.sembled body of elders and guild representatives listened to the harangues cataloging the questionable behavior of their guests. The cliff dwellers could not countenance the long-legs' voracious appet.i.tes, their rambunctiousness, their rudeness.

"With immense respect, my elder," Toon chirped from the visitors' gallery, standing without sanction and unrecognized. "May I speak?"

The facilitator looked down from the a.s.sembly podium, irritated with the impudent interruption. The a.s.sembly was occupied primarily by members of the dweller congress, the duly elected guild and hunter officials.

"Ah, supervisor Toon!" the facilitator acknowledged. "Thy reports art the basis of our findings. What is it thou wouldst say?"

"I humbly address the council," replied the steam user. "My reports have not served thee well, for while thy decision to continue the quarantine may be correct, thy logic for doing so is faulty."

The a.s.semblage murmured at the steam user's blatant affront.

"The crude behavior of the long-legs should not be seen as evil or base," Toon continued hurriedly, desperately holding on to his courage. "The long-legs are different. We should reserve judgment until we have a better understanding. Arrogant and ill mannered yes, but they are not evil. They desire to be good, but they act as individuals, selfishly and without common purpose."

Murmurs grew louder. Toon raised his voice and continued.

"I humbly propose the long-legs be provided with labor, even if it means exposing them to our society. Gainful employment will exhaust their energies in worthwhile endeavor, and it will serve to give them value in our eyes."

The great hall was silent. The council of elders stared down at the lone engineer as if he were an insect. The silence lingered.

"Toon' s words have merit," interjected Braan, leader-of-thehunters. He stood erect, not apologizing for the parliamentary breach.

Koop glared down. Such disruptions reflected ill on his leadership.

"The hunter leader is recognized," warbled the facilitator with poorly concealed resignation.

"Permission to speak is humbly accepted," Braan whistled as he took the speaker's dock, talons clicking obnoxiously. "Hunters have billeted the long-legs for four cycles of the small moon and have observed them firsthand-not from rumor or from steam user Toon' s reports. The long-legs have good qualities-many good qualities. If they are evil, then we are equally so."

Remonstrative jeers whistled around the a.s.sembly. Braan turned and belligerently scanned the members, defiantly awaiting the disruption to attenuate. The floor was his.

"It is true they behave offensively," the hunter screeched over the din. "They gesture obscenely. They stare with fixed eye contact! They consume great amounts of precious food, only to convert it to malodorous waste! They seldom wash, and their bodies stink. They are loud. They respect not our customs. They even fight among themselves. All of this is true. Yes, it is true! But that does not provide reason to condemn. It ill.u.s.trates only that they are different."

It was a long speech for a hunter; Braan concluded, "Listen to steam user Toon. His counsel is well measured." The hunter returned to his seat.

The a.s.sembly was silent. The facilitator recognized Toon.

The s.p.a.cers waited nervously in the dark, damp cavern. Although they could not see the river, its muted roar required them to raise their voices to be heard. Steam was thick and warm around them, yet icicles dripped from the ceiling and along catwalk chain railings. Dim globes stretched out before them, a string of dingy yellow pearls disappearing in the distant curve of the cavern. Sixty meters below and on the other side of the channel, another necklace of spirit lamps ran parallel to the first, following the channel course at the cavern's bottom. Cliff dwellers worked in the dim light, splashing, sc.r.a.ping, and pounding in the wet channel bottom. Lurking in shadows behind them a mysterious guilder stood between lamps, watching them carefully.

"Who's that?" MacArthur asked.

"Lizard's boss," Hudson replied. "That's the guy we have to impress."

"He's not impressing me slinking in the shadows," O'Toole said.

"Stop staring," Shannon said. "It makes them nervous."

The s.p.a.cers turned their attention to Buccari and Lizard Lips walking toward them. The beings from different worlds had been scouting the cavern, silently communicating, using sign language and writing.

"We're sediment cleaners," Buccari announced. The tall human males circled the twosome, compelling Lizard Lips to take an involuntary step backward. Buccari reached over, put an arm around the cliff dweller's back, and firmly pulled him into their huddle.

"Mr. Lip's been explaining acc.u.mulators to me," Buccari said, "and why they need to be cleaned. This cavern is one of four acc.u.mulator channels. They have closed and drained it so sediment-cleaning teams can clear away rocks, silt, and other debris that have deposited since the last cleaning. All four of the channels are behind schedule for cleaning. Last year's flow was one of the heaviest in their history, and it left behind tremendous amounts of sediment. We are to join one of the cleaning teams, and after we learn the job, we train the rest of our crew and form our own team. It's a big job."

"Sounds like forced labor to me," Pet.i.t said.

"We're working for food and shelter," Buccari said. "No one's forcing you to do anything. You can leave anytime you like, Pet.i.t."

"Eh, sorry, Lieutenant," Pet.i.t replied. "I didn't mean-"

"Yeah, that's okay," Buccari said. "This place gives me the creeps, too." Liquid sc.r.a.ping noises echoed through the dripping, musty cavern.

"We need the work," MacArthur said. "Let's get going."

"Okay, you know how important this is," Buccari said. "We earn our keep, and we have a chance to prove we're not worthless, which our friend tells me is the case right now. Anything beats sitting around on our fannies all winter."

"What do they acc.u.mulate in an acc.u.mulator channel, Lieutenant?" Shannon asked.

"Energy! Potential energy to be precise," Buccari replied. "River water is diverted into a channel, depending on availability of water and energy needs. Each channel has a series of geared waterwheels used to hoist large weights up vertical distances. The cables suspending these weights can be disengaged from the waterwheels and connected to other drive mechanisms. It's a gigantic mechanical storage battery. These guys are amazing mechanical engineers."

"That must be how they drive the elevators," Hudson said. "Did you see the weights and the gearing systems?"

"Just a peek," Buccari replied. "That's still off limits. Lizard was reluctant to tell me about it. I just kept asking questions until he caved in. So to speak."

MacArthur snorted. "How is it so warm in, uh.. .a cave this big?"

"Steam," Buccari said. "They collect steam. Water flowing through the channels is diverted into some sort of magma chamber. This produces gobs of steam which is collected in low-pressure acc.u.mulators and released to drive pistons and turbines. A lot of steam backflows into the caverns. Lizard has cautioned me a dozen times on the dangers of steam geysers and scalding water."

"Hot showers, eh? All right!" O'Toole said.

"Yeah, hot! Very, very hot!" Buccari warned.

"Does that mean they have electricity?" Hudson asked.

"Not that I can tell," Buccari answered. "I couldn't explain the concept to Lizard, either. All the steam energy is dissipated mechanically, or used directly as heat."

"What do we use for tools?" Shannon asked.

"Good question. Evidently our tools are waiting for us. Let's go," Buccari replied. "We have to climb to the channel bottom. Be careful. Our friend keeps telling me the work is dangerous, so keep your mouths shut and pay attention."

"Aye, aye, sir!" they shouted in unison.

The winter solstice had arrived. Hundreds of spirit lamps were shrouded with dark blue globes for the occasion; the great a.s.sembly hall flickered in yellows and blues. The quiet chittering of the gathered ma.s.ses lowered abruptly as two hundred votaries, adult females dressed in orange robes, appeared at the entrances and dispersed into the hall, moving slowly about the central podium, lighting more candles. Bool, sitting in the masters' gallery, watched the scintillating patterns, enchanted as any child.

"Toon' s idea has proven excellent," Koop whispered. The facilitator had stopped for a subdued chat with the old steam user. Together, the dwellers watched the multiplying points of light.

"Without question, wise one," Bool responded. "My doubts have been dispelled. After only two moon cycles of instruction the long-legs are twice as productive as an equal number of dwellers, despite inexperience. In another moon cycle they will clear sediment at thrice the rate of our best teams. We are designing special tools to take advantage of their leverage and reach."

"Is it only because they are so strong?" the facilitator asked. "I am told they destroy tools because they wield them with such force."

"Perhaps," Bool responded. "And yet Toon tells me they have brought innovation to the task. We have been doing it the same way for so long that we have stopped looking for other ways. It goes well. Sediment clearing is actually on schedule-a miracle."

"Excellent to hear-sssh! The ceremony is starting. I must take my place. Good year to you and long life." The facilitator moved to his position behind the central podium as high-toned bells rang sharply. The votaries arrayed themselves, and the hall fell silent.

The celebration of the shortest day of the year began with the rhythmic pealing of a single bell-a sweet tone. Then the singing began, distant and muted. Rich harmonies and expansive tonal ranges emanated from the congregated cliff dwellers, their delicate frames physically resonating in the glory of transonic music-a deep, nearly s.e.xual stimulation overwhelming all senses. The procession of choirs commenced. Singing grew in volume and intensity as thousands of females robed in royal blue filed in, stately and erect, moving as slowly as the pa.s.sage of the stars. Time was not perceived, for the singing was ethereal, and all present prayed it would never end.

Another bell, large and deep-toned, pealed three times; the elders slipped from their perches. A keening rose from the choirs, signaling the arrival of the judges and priestesses-females all,robed in black. The regal entourage moved with dignified yet graceful pace to positions around the great hall. Several mounted the stairs to the central stage. Over half were small-hunter females-including the high priestess, for hunters were the best singers.

The high priestess moved to the raised stage center and faced the mult.i.tude, lifting her arms high, wing membranes luminously backlighted in blue, the very image of beauty and purity. Yellow fires danced at her feet, highlighting her prominent features. She slowly lowered her arms, and all present, male and female, adult and child, raised voices in harmonious accord, increasing volume in a majestic crescendo. The high priestess raised her arms once again and the female tones surfaced from the powerful male background harmonies; a lush ululation rose in wave upon wave; alternating harmonics of male and female origin, a yin and yang of sound, tumbled around each other, melding into one. When the time was right, the high priestess dropped her arms.

Silence.

The high priestess stared outward and upward, eyes closed- her vision confined to the sonic realm. She uttered sounds, musically, but very quietly. Yet every pure, harmonic emanation was clearly heard by each dweller in the hall. She projected- transmitted-her message at a mult.i.tude of sonic levels, and the acute receptors of the audience received and resolved her vibrations.

"We are blessed, my people," she trilled. "We are blessed with children. We are blessed with salt and warmth. We are blessed." She paused. The audience responded with a musical affirmation, an "amen" of surpa.s.sing harmony.

"We are blessed, my people," the litany continued. "We are blessed with food. We are blessed with flowers and families. We are indeed blessed." The audience responded with growing pa.s.sion and volume.

"The G.o.ds abide in our hearts and in our souls. They live in our rocks, in the mountains and cliffs. They live in the waters of lakes and rivers. We are blessed. They look down from the moons, and they illuminate the sun and the stars. Each tree, each blade of gra.s.s, each drop of rain, each starry snowflake-they are each and every one a benevolent and compa.s.sionate spirit. We are blessed. The G.o.ds are everywhere, and they are just. The G.o.ds are just and fair. We are blessed. We are so very blessed. Let us sing! Let us sing our thanks for our many blessings. Let us sing."

The voices in the a.s.sembly hall were forcefully raised in harmonic resonance, a powerful manifestation of rising fervor. Wave upon wave of multidimensional sound permeated the great hall, rebounding from stone walls and reinforcing the next wave of song newly sent forth. The fledglings in the audience trembled before the power of the adult voices. Bells sounded in rolling peals, and the harmonious tumult continued to elevate. Spirit lamp globes vibrated. The very rock upon which they stood buzzed in sympathetic harmony, warming with the transmission of sonic energy.

Time pa.s.sed but was not measured, and when it was right, the high priestess raised thin arms. Blue and gold light danced from her wings, and the concord of tones and whistles, of bells and songs, subsided in subliminal thresholds, falling through innumerable levels of frequency and harmony, until only a small portion of the choir was left chanting. And with lingering glory, the last exquisite sounds drifted into exalted silence. The high priestess scanned the audience. A radiant smile reflected her contentment and inner light.

"We are blessed. We are blessed with the voices of our ancestors," the high priestess cried, tears of joy giving her speech liquid qualities. "We are so very blessed." The a.s.sembled mult.i.tude responded, humbly but with great pa.s.sion.

The deep, heavy bell tolled again, six times, and the high priestess gestured grandly. The judges strode forward-nine guilder females. They arrayed themselves, solemn and imposing, behind nine onyx monoliths. They wore the same orange robes as the votaries, but they also wore necklaces of sparkling onyx. The hall was still, a stillness beyond silence, for it was the time of reckoning. Cliff dweller laws were few, but penalties severe; any cliff dweller who willfully caused harm could be banished, doomed to die in the freezing wilderness.

"We are blessed," intoned the high priestess, "with justice. Let justice have voice! Read the names."

And the trials began.

"It's cold!" Fenstermacher complained, feeding the ante. "It's cold every day!" Chief Wilson said, dealing the cards.

"Stop complaining! It's a h.e.l.l of a lot colder back at the cave," Dawson chided.

"So what's going on, Lieutenant? Why the day off?" Wilson asked. He sat on a deep pile of furs looking at his poker hand.

Buccari pored over stacks of dweller writings-the dictionary. The collection of writings and drawings had grown large. Hudson and MacArthur were helping her organize the icons and symbols.

"Liz wouldn't say," she replied. "He said we had to stay in our barracks today. Some kind of religious day-a holiday, maybe?"

"There are extra guards down the pa.s.sageway," Shannon said. "I pa.s.s."

"A religious day?" Fenstermacher asked. "What kind of religion do they have?"

"Hard to say," Buccari answered. "Some kind of animism."

"What?" Fenstermacher persisted. "They worship animals?"

"They worship everything," MacArthur answered. "To them every rock, tree, and mountain has a soul. They worship the planet. And they have different sects or life-purposes-the tall ones, the workers, actually pray to the rocks, or to the plants, or to the fish, or to the steam, depending on their training. The hunters worship the wild animals."

Buccari looked up at MacArthur. The Marine, standing close to her, looked away, embarra.s.sed.

"You're picking this up quickly, Mac," she said thickly. "Keep at it. More of us need to communicate with our new friends. It's like learning how to read." MacArthur blushed and smiled weakly.

"Yeah, Mac," Hudson agreed, absorbed in the material before him. "This stuff is ambiguous and Sharl, er-Lieutenant Buccari never buys my interpretation. Like this, Sharl; check this out."

"What's it in response to?" she asked. Hudson had organized a keying system to match questions with answers.

"It relates to the series of questions on other races and peoples," Hudson replied. "We were trying to determine if they had ever seen other aliens or flying machines."

"Yeah," Buccari said. "And..."

"I read this sequence to say they've seen flying machines, but not recently-not in four years, and then only rarely before that. They also describe giants or bear people. Here, tell me what you think." He pushed the parchment sheets over. Buccari stared at them. MacArthur moved tentatively closer.

"You're right, Nash," she said after a while. "This indicates the dwellers saw loud, rigid-wing flying objects. Four winters, er- years ago." Buccari stared at the pages, shifting her view. "Their mythology includes stories of large people-giants or bear people- emerging from such flying machines. The bear people had weapons that made music, or sang. Weapons that killed from great distances."

"Giants, eh?" Wilson remarked. The poker game halted in mid-hand.

"Don't forget," Hudson said. "They think of us as giants, too."

"Not quite the same, Nash," Buccari interrupted. "Lizard uses this term big big to describe us. The term he uses to describes the mythical beings seems to be more emphatic, a difference of degree. Liz makes it clear that no living dweller has seen one of these mythical bear people, but many dwellers have seen their flying machines." to describe us. The term he uses to describes the mythical beings seems to be more emphatic, a difference of degree. Liz makes it clear that no living dweller has seen one of these mythical bear people, but many dwellers have seen their flying machines."

"How about the singing weapons?" MacArthur asked. "Lasers?"

"Good guess," Shannon said soberly.

Everyone's attention was drawn to the entrance of their living quarters; Chastain and Gordon walked in, shaking snow from their furs.

"We thought we heard something," Chastain said.

"Like what, Jocko?" Buccari asked.

"Music, bells, whistling, or-something. Weird noises. It kinda got under your skin. Kinda pretty, though," he said thoughtfully.

"I miss music," Dawson said absentmindedly. She started humming a long forgotten tune. After a short period of time she stopped abruptly and looked around, embarra.s.sed.

"It was pretty, Nancy," Lee said. "Don't stop."