Dusabi.
“My spear is in it now,” Jules said in a cold fury, enunciating each syllable. “I claim the
kill.”
The other men in the party gathered in a circle around Jules and Dusabi as the duel of
wills flared. For an instant it seemed the very air between the two would ionize from the
charge of personality flowing back and forth. Finally, without taking his eyes from Jules’s
face, Dusabi took a step away. “Four kills,” he repeated in an even tone. “One for Ashai,
one for Jeddman, one for Brecht and one for me.”
From that point onward, Jules was accepted as art equal in the party. People didn’t
necessarily like him any better-no one seemed very friendly to anyone else on
Gastonia-but he was at least treated with the respect they gave someone who could
hold his own in their company.
The four dead sleekars were lashed together with leather thongs and hung from a tree
branch, to be gathered up tomorrow on their way back to the village. Dusabi sprinkled a
greenish powder over the bodies, and at Jules’s inquiry explained that it was a peppery
substance that kept the local scavengers from becoming too interested in the hunters’
catch.
They left that location well-marked and traveled onward. As Jules surmised, they would
have to travel quite a distance before they could hope to find another pack of sleekars;
such large carnivores needed a wide hunting area themselves to support their numbers,
and the territories of various packs would not overlap. They stopped for a short midday
meal; Jules had not known to bring his own food, but managed to get small portions from
each of his colleagues with a promise to pay them back at the end of the hunt.
There was one more hunt later that day, and Jules again bagged a sleekar, one of the
five killed in this encounter. He heard assorted mumblings of “beginner’s luck,” but paid
them no attention. A worse problem to the group was a loud argument between
Bagheddes and another man, Pajjar, over which of them had actually killed a given
sleekar. By the time Dusabi and the rest of the men arrived at the scene, both hunters’
spears were lodged in the carcass and each man was accusing the other of trying to
steal credit for his kill. Dusabi examined the evidence and awarded the kill to Bagheddes,
saying that Bagheddes’s spear looked to be in the beast at a more believable angle, and
that Pajjar’s spear could have been stuck in afterward. This decision stopped the
argument but did little to quell the animosity that raged between the two men. For the
rest of the day there was a barrage of verbal sniping back and forth. Some of the men
took sides in the dispute, others chose to remain completely neutral; discretion prompted
Jules toward the latter path.
They camped that night in a small clearing and gathered branches for a fire. Dusabi
assured Jules that there were nocturnal carnivores larger and more dangerous than the
sleekars roaming the forest, and that a guard would be maintained at all times. As low
man on the totem pole, Jules drew first watch, and accepted the responsibility silently.
Several times during his turn he was startled by some loud, mysterious noises in the
darkness nearby, but nothing came close enough to the circle of light to be identifiable.
When Jules was relieved he was so worn out that he fell into a deep sleep until
awakened at dawn for the next day’s activities.
All morning they searched unsuccessfully for signs of more sleekar packs. Their lack of
success, coupled with the continuing insult battle between Bagheddes and Pajjar, served
to make the entire party edgy. Finally in midafternoon, just as Dusabi was ready to give
the order to turn back and collect the previous day’s catch, they found signs of sleekar
activity in the area. They spread out once more in a hunting pattern, and this time Jules
was confident enough to go off on his own.
When the stampede was launched and the hunt began, Jules downed another of the
beasts with comparative ease. Hoisting the carcass over his shoulders, he started
hauling it back toward the central rendezvous area when he heard a very human scream
to his left. Without dropping his catch, he ran in that direction to see what was the
matter.
He came upon a sight that brought him to a stop. Pajjar was bending over Bagheddes’s
lifeless body, his spear through his enemy’s chest. He was stripping the clothing off the
corpse, having already pawed through the dead man’s knapsack. Jules let his sleekar fall
to the ground as he leaped through the air to tackle the murderer and wrestle him to the
ground. At the same time, he called out to the other hunters for help-but it wasn’t
needed. One punch was all it took to knock Pajjar unconscious.
Dusabi and the other men were on the scene within seconds, and the group leader could
tell at a glance what had happened. He helped Jules off Pajjar’s body and told him, “Tend
to your own catch. I’ll handle this.”
He personally began stripping the body of all its valuables, including a small stone knife
and a leather coin purse attached to the belt by a thong. Pajjar was just starting to come
to as he finished; Dusabi bundled the plunder together and tossed it roughly at the
murderer. “Here’s the stuff,” he growled, “and you’ll get half-credit for that kill yesterday.
But I don’t ever want you in a group of mine again, understand?”
Jules could hardly believe what he heard. Gastonian society was actually rewarding
Pajjar for murdering another man. He started after Dusabi to complain, but the group
leader saw him coming, took him by the arm and led him aside. “Before you start
lecturing me, warmie,” he said coldly, “you’d better know I did that for your sake.”
“Mine?”
Dusabi nodded. “You’re a good hunter. I don’t want to lose you. If Pajjar thought you
were responsible for his losing what he’d earned he might slip a spear in your back
sometime. This way he’ll just curse you as a doob for a while and then forget about it.”
“What about Bagheddes?”
The group leader shrugged. “Live bodies are more important than dead ones. There’s
too much work in the village.” Jules looked back at the body. Bagheddes had by this time
been stripped completely naked by Pajjar and the other hunters; resources on Gastonia
were too scarce to allow anything to be wasted. “Aren’t we at least going to bury him?”
he asked. “Why bother? Plenty of scavengers around to finish him off. We’ve got to get
our catch back into town before it starts going bad. Besides,” the leader laughed
ironically, “what are you going to dig a grave with-your bare hands?”
Jules was silent for the rest of the afternoon as the party gathered up its catches from
the previous day and began the arduous task of hauling the sleekars back into the village.
He was soberly pondering the new lesson he had learned about life on Gastonia:
anything is forgiven if you can get away with it. Nothing, particularly here, succeeded like
success.
They got back into town just before dusk. They were met by a party of workers who
hauled the sleekar carcasses away for processing; Jules and the other hunters went
down to the Central Registry to collect their wages. Jules was due a handsome bonus
for his three kills, but when the money was counted out he found he’d gotten only half of
what was owed him.
“Taxes,” was the clerk’s only answer when Jules complained. Jules swallowed his
intended reply, and stomped out with his money.
By the time he finished paying back his colleagues for sharing their meals with him, he
had only a third of what he’d earned. As he turned to go back to his and Yvonne’s hut,
Dusabi stopped him and told him of a much larger hunting expedition that would be
leaving in three days. The wages on that trip would be higher, although, since they’d be
hunting bigger game, the work would be harder and the risks greater. Dusabi was
impressed enough with Jules’s work to recommend him for that group, along with a
promotion to the next higher grade. Jules said he was indeed interested in serving on that
team, and told Dusabi to contact him if it became definite. Somehow, though, he could
not bring himself to say “thank you” to the group leader, nor did Dusabi seem to expect
it. “Please” and “thank you” were expressions seldom used on Gastonia.
Vonnie had already finished her work for the day and was waiting for him when he
arrived home. Even as he rushed to embrace her, Jules was almost overpowered by the
smell. His wife stank of tannery chemicals. “Phew!” he said after they kissed. “Let’s hope