(eng) Mike Shepherd - Kris Longknife 13.5 by Among The Kicking Birds

Author:Among The Kicking Birds [Birds, Among The Kicking]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

While the Ostriches fought for honor and fame, they had never had much of anything to fight over. Still, every male had the right to challenge anyone to a fight, anytime. The fights went up to and including kicking their heads off if one didn’t run first.

Someone challenged one of the rifle holders to a fight. The first challenge was to one of the hunters who had been given a rifle by his chief. That started it.

Fortunately for the shipyard workers, they put two and two together quickly and beat feet for the Marine camp. The Marines made it immanently clear that they frowned upon people issuing challenges to those under their protection.

Still, Gunny got Kris up to take in what was happening in the villages located downhill from them, closer to the river.

“It’s a bloody mess,” he observed.

“I didn’t see that coming,” Jacques admitted.

“Isn’t this why they call economics the dismal science?” Kris said. “When there’s too little of what people want, the price goes up. In this case, if you can take it, it’s yours. Jacques, would you feel safe bringing me the elders?”

“So long as I don’t have a gun and the Marines are in full battle rattle,” the anthropologist answered.

Kris looked around her encampment. Most of it was very high tech. “Gunny, get me a fire going.” Kris had seen no fire in the Ostrich villages. Something lower tech might be more impressive than indoor plumbing.

Ten minutes later, Jacques and his Marines returned with four very separate and cautious groups of hunters and elders.

“How’d it go?” Kris asked.

“One dumb bird tried to butt chest with a Marine in full battle armor,” Jacques said with a rather grim grin. “He’ll be a long time butting anyone else.”

The groups of elders held back in the shadows beyond the fire.

“Gunny, toss some more cow dung on the fire,” Kris ordered. They’d found no wood to burn close to the camp. They had found a lot of the droppings of the grazing animals. The survival manual said it might burn. It did, very brightly.

No surprise, fire appeared to be totally new to the locals. The gathered elders eyed and its light, then the worker Ostriches that stood with the Marines around it. Slowly, they worked their way into the flames light and warmth. They approached, but stayed well away from Kris and her armed and armored Marines as well as each other.

Kris and baby had had enough squatting; a Marine brought her out a chair. She also no longer wanted these birds to think of her as their equal. Her attitude was changing. There’s needed to change as well.

Kris’s eyes swept the birds huddled at the edge of the fire’s light. “I gave you gifts. What have you done with them?” As Kris spoke Nelly translated.

No one ventured to answer her question.

“Does your tribe use my gifts to feed you or kick heads until you will not have enough hunters to feed you?”

Again, there was no answer from the shamed face elders.

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