CHAPTER ONE
BARRIER
Alonzo looked down from the last of the low mountains they'd crossed. It sloped gently to a broad valley. Stands of trees were scattered throughout a lush, velvety grassland. Alonzo could see what was apparently a herd of some grazing animal. Toward the south, the trees thickened into forest. Northward, more grass-land, fewer trees. The horizon was so distant it made his eyes hurt. And away to the west, where he wanted to go, a haze he'd come to recognize as mountains. It was beautiful.
Bisecting the valley, north to south, was a river. A wide river. The trees on the banks didn't begin to hide it. From horizon to horizon, the river flowed placidly onward.
It wasn't on the map.
Alonzo grinned wryly. Given the source, why should the maps be accurate? He scanned the landscape once more before heading to the ATV. The river hadn't moved. Well, it had, but not in any way to benefit them. He shook his head, dismayed at the turn his sense of humor had taken.
Everyone had been in great spirits the past few weeks. They were enjoying good weather, good terrain, and plenty of food. They'd seen no one except the occasional Grendler. Even the Terrians were quiet.
Alonzo didn't relish breaking the news to his companions. But, there was no point in delaying. They weren't going to make the 25 klicks Devon was shooting for. The best thing would be to find a nice spot and camp.
John's initial response to Alonzo's call was a growl. The pilot had reached him by contacting Magus, who'd caught up to him just long enough to deliver the message. He had no way of avoiding the call. What did Alonzo want, anyway? If it was important, he should be talking to Adair.
"Okay, 'Lonz, what do you need?"
Alonzo raised his eyebrows and grinned. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, with Danz playing straightman. "A boat."
"Come on, Solace, quit kidding around. What's up?" Danziger demanded irritably.
The pilot/scout lost the grin, but repeated the request for a boat. "We have a problem. There's a river between us and New Pacifica."
"Yeah? How far from us?" John's attitude changed abruptly. Delays were becoming a way of life, but that didn't make them welcome.
"Seven miles, give or take. I'm standing at the top of the last of the foothills, looking out over the plain, just like on the map. Only, running from north to south, as far as I can see in either direction, is the river. It's wide. Has to be deep."
"Depth makes no difference. These vehicles aren't amphibious. What's Adair say about it?" He could see her toward the rear of the caravan. Judging by her bouncy walk, she didn't know yet.
"I haven't talked to her. I'm not sure I want to be the bearer of bad news."
"Um. You want me to tell Adair?"
Alonzo grinned. "I was hoping you'd see it that way." "Hey, you're not out of this," warned Danziger. "It's going to be aconference call, buddy."
Devon watched Uly & True playing a game, the goal of which was evidently to gain and maintain possession of a square of orange cloth. They were like puppies, tugging & twisting at the prize. And like puppies, the kids sometimes growled at each other.
It was strange how VR was losing its appeal for them. It was even stranger that Devon felt no inclination to stop True & Uly from "arguing", especially since Uly was sometimes pulled off his feet by the larger and stronger True. Julia, backed up by Yale and Bess, had convinced her that rough and tumble was necessary for Uly's emotional and mental health, now that he was physically well.
Devon reflected on this. She felt comfortably maternal. They'd been on the road long enough for her to feel at home, as if trekking across an unknown wilderness was how it had always been. She noticed John waiting up ahead. An automatic smile enhanced her already radiant face.
"Hey, Adair," he greeted. He tapped his gear. "We've got trouble."
"Alonzo?" Devon settled her set in place as Danziger nodded. She was none the less lighthearted. Some trouble was to be expected: problems arose, problems were solved. She looked at John. *Most* problems were solved. "Alonzo? What have you found?"
He'd been tricked. "Danziger--"
"Yeah, tell us what's going on," said John, his guileless tone causing Devon to flick a doubtful glance in his direction.
Alonzo would get him back. But on to the matter at hand. "Devon, we won't make 15 miles today. We won't make another seven."
"Please come to the point, Alonzo," said Devon. "There's a river about 11 miles from last night's campsite. We can't cross it, and from where I am, I don't see any way to avoid it."
"There can't be!" she protested. She looked suspiciously at John. "Is this a joke?"
Danziger shrugged. "If it is, it's Alonzo's." "It's no joke, Devon. The river may not be on the map, but it's certainly on the planet."
She sighed. "You'd better find us a suitable campsite. Bear in mind we may be there a while." Already Devon Adair was sketching out plans.
She repeated her statement on the mountaintop. "There can't be!" The river ignored her denial and continued flowing across the Edenites' intended path. Devon stood, hands on hips, eyes fixed on that river. How much time would this cost them? A breeze carried the scent of growing things. In other circumstances, Devon would have relished the wind and the way it felt on her face. Today, it simply annoyed her that she had to pull strands of hair out of her mouth from time to time.
Several members of the Eden group had accompanied her. Devon and John may have viewed it as a reconnaissance mission; the rest were sightseeing, scattered across the slope. Morgan and Alonzo had remained with their leader. The politician was seeing to his own interests; the pilot was keeping an eye on the politician.
"What is it, then?"snided Morgan. "A mass hallucination?" Devon ignored him, as he ignored Danziger, who'd given him a warning with his eyes.
"It looks like we detour north." she said. Danziger shook his head. "We need to check it out, first. There's no guarantee the river doesn't cut back east somewhere up north. We'd be boxed in."
Alonzo settled himself on the ground. He wrapped a blade of grass around his fingers. "That might not happen for hundreds of klicks." He tossed the mangled grass away and stretched out on his back, head cradled in his hands. Blue sky. Now what did that remind him of? Correction, who did that remind him of? The pilot smiled inwardly. Man, he had it bad; getting around this river could add months to their travel time, and he didn't care. That would be extra time with Julia and no need to decide between her and the stars.
Morgan may have felt optimistic or he may have felt contrary: he said, "It may 'cut back' to the west." He looked at Devon. "You know, we can't keep calling it 'the river'".
John snorted. "All right. Let's name it. How about Danziger's River?"
Morgan stood open mouthed. "That's not what I had in mind," he said peevishly.
Danziger was enjoying himself. "Yeah? What did you have in mind? 'Morgan's River'? You've already got Morganite named after you."
"No, not Morgan's River--"
"Martin's River!"
"No. If you'd shut up for a minute--" Danziger put on an exaggerated expression of surprise. "Don't tell us you're willing to share the glory! 'Bess's River'".
"Not Morgan's or Bess's River," insisted the politician. He could think quickly if need be. He could get out of this without looking the fool. "Alonzo found it--'
"Leave me out of this," came from the grass. Devon had grown tired of the bickering. "Naming it doesn't matter. Crossing it does."
John and Morgan looked at her, then at each other. "Adair's River," said John.
Morgan, seeing a way to save face, agreed. Alonzo added his vote. And Devon stared at her namesake unhappily. "I really don't want geographical features named after me."
Morgan took the opportunity to get in a little dig. "It's named after Uly."
Uly, once told, was delighted with 'his' river.
Alonzo had found a hollow in the hillside about four miles upslope of the river. A copse of trees on the southern side provided shade. Otherwise, it was open and grassy.
Devon was pleased at how well everyone took the news of another delay. A lot of ground had been covered in the past three weeks: 315 miles, crossing what Yale termed "an ancient mountain range, reminiscent of the Applachians of North America." They'd taken no rest days, breaking camp each morning and setting up a new one each night. The break in travel was actually welcomed by most of the group, who, infected with Devon's optimism, expected to be packing up and moving on in four or five days.
But not everyone. Danziger had pointed out that the river could go on for hundreds of miles in either direction. He'd met Devon's suggestion they build a raft with a jerk of his thumb toward the Transrover. Baines fell in line with Danziger. Yale also doubted they'd quickly resolve the situation; he felt John was likely right, plus some of the Edenites might not put wholehearted effort into finding a way out of this paradise. Devon couldn't dismiss Yale's opinion as she did Danziger and Baines's.
She sounded out John on the subject. "I can only speak for myself, Adair, but I've never seen any place to beat it. Of course, this planet holds a lot of surprises, so the valley might look like "Paradise" and be "Hell". I intend to make it to New Pacifica. Can't guarantee I'll stay. If this is as good as it looks, I may come back."
"I've never pictured you as a farmer, Danziger," said Devon. She was unexpectedly upset by his statement.
He smiled, gazing out on the plain, oblivious to the look on Devon's face. "I wouldn't farm."
She regained control of her features. "What, then? Are you going to become a mountain man and live off the land?"
Danziger frowned at Devon's tone. "No." He pointed. "See that black blur off to the right?" She didn't. He stood behind her so she could sight down his arm. Devon found herself having difficulty seeing the blur. She found she was in no hurry to focus on it.
"See it?" he murmured. "They're getting closer," he added, gently "steadying" her with an arm around her waist.
Devon suddenly grew uncomfortable. She was not in command of the situation, Danziger was. "Oh, yes, there they are." She freed herself. "I don't know how I missed them before." Devon put a few feet between Danziger and herself, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Does this have anything to do with your returning to 'paradise'?"
"Yeah. Yes,it does." Devon had adopted "Rich Leader" mode. Okay, fine. He adopted "Hired (resentful) Help" mode. "Those are grazing animals. I'd be a rancher." John headed purposefully toward the vehicles. He stopped and wheeled around. "Incidentally, Adair, the entire ops crew *is* calling it Paradise." The mechanic continued on his way, got a job to do, ya' know.
Julia had unobtrusively observed the 'encounter'. "Devon!" she called, motioning her over. Devon obliged, and spent the rest of the afternoon going over Julia's findings regarding the biosystem of the area. Actually, it was interesting.
Bess sat in the grass, arms wrapped around her knees. She was crowned with True's version of a daisy-chain. The little girl, in an unusually feminine mood, had given one to every woman in the camp except Julia, and she was working on that one. The doctor had scanned the blooms and pronounced them harmless.
"I wish this was New Pacifica," Bess said. "It's the most beautiful place we've been, isn't it, Morgan?"
He grudgingly conceded it was. He was happier in the mountains; a person couldn't see so far. There was at least the illusion of protection from the vast unknown. Sometimes Morgan could see infinity in Bess's eyes. Maybe that's why she liked open spaces so well. He'd come to the conclusion that she'd never be content at the stations.
"We ought to stake a claim," she mused. "Remember what happened the last time we tried that?" Morgan's hands began to tingle at the thought.
Bess playfully shoved Morgan to the ground. "Oh, Morgan, I don't mean a mining claim." She lay next to him, propped on her elbows. "I mean a homestead claim. We could build a house in the cove where the camp is. We could claim the whole valley, and raise...horses or whatever passes for horses on G889."
Morgan stared at the sky. If he stared long enough, he fancied he could sense the rotation of the planet. "Cattle would be more lucrative."
"There's plenty of room for cows, and sheep, too, if you want them." Bess tickled his nose with a grass stalk.
He rubbed the tickle away absently. The homestead idea was actually a pretty good one. "We could raise chickens, Bess, and have real eggs! Have you ever eaten a real, fresh egg?"
"No, Morgan."
"At the election party for Robert R. Russell, we were served deviled eggs. I ate three of them. Well, one and a half; the eggs are cut in two."
"I know what deviled eggs are, Morgan." She tickled his nose again.
"Bess," he began, crossly.
"Yes, Morgan." She leaned over him so closely he could barely focus. "We could raise children, too, Morgan."
"Yes, this would be a good place for children." He grabbed her hand, inprisoning the grass stalk. "But this isn't a good place to start on them."
"Oh? How about a little practice?" Bess smiled one of her special smiles.
"Bess," he said in exasperation, grabbing her other hand, which was also intent on tickling, tho' not his nose.
"About a mile from camp, there's some real tall grass, almost up to my shoulders."
"There is?"
"There is," she confirmed.
Morgan disentangled from Bess and sat up. He smiled. "Sounds interesting."
One thing he could say for this planet: it had the most rewarding effect on his wife.
That night, the scouting party was chosen. John Danziger 'assumed' he'd be part. He was. Alonzo was also pretty much a given. They ended up drawing straws to determine who among the remaining candidates would go. Cameron and Denner won.
They would leave early the next morning. Months of practice had made preparation for journeys thru the wilderness second nature. Men and women who'd spent their lives pampered by the magic of technology now packed, lifted, and tied baggage with grace, if the smooth movement of physical labor can be called 'grace'. They'd learned each other, knew the weaknesses and strengths of each, and worked together with the efficiency of an ant colony.
Ants, however, don't feel the pride this group did. Magus sat slightly apart from the others, observing the camp as it settled down for the night. She'd always liked working with her hands--she looked at them in the fading sunlight. The nails were clipped short. That was nothing new. Magus had never worn them long; they got in the way. She turned her hands palm upwards. The callouses *were* new. Probably everyone in the camp had calloused hands. Soft palms were worse than useless in this place. The memory of ropeburn caused her to wince. She'd thought, as a drone on the stations, that she was familiar with manual labor. She laughed. *No one* on the stations had any idea what spit-on-your-hands-and-get-a-good-grip work was.
Magus liked the planet. At least, parts of it she liked. This valley, for example. It was like a dream. The increasingly planet-wise bit of herself knew it could be a bad place to winter without solid, climate controlled shelter. The same planet-wise bit speculated on the possibility of building a satisfactory cabin. What information Yale couldn't provide, they could learn by trial and error. They could do it.
She watched her campmates. It was hard to believe any of them, except maybe Bess, could have survived under these conditions. But now, if they couldn't get across Uly's River, if they never reached New Pacifica and reestablished communication with civilization, they'd do just fine here. It was amazing how much they'd changed. Magus rubbed her own arm, still unused to the firmness of the muscle. Her legs looked great, and her butt wasn't bad, either. The most unexpected improvement in her figure was the 'lift' lifting and carrying had given her breasts. Julia said that was the result of building up the pectoral muscles of the chest. Every woman in Eden Advance had been similiarly affected. As a whole, they looked really good, even without makeup and hairdressers.
Too bad there was such a limited selection of men. Devon and the scouts were going over the details of their trip. There appeared to be some disagreement.
Magus drifted to the campfire, joining most of the others. That was another thing she liked about this planet. The fire, or maybe the camaraderie it evoked, was something she'd miss. Humans were meant to sit around fires, with dogs at their feet. Magus had always enjoyed the petting zoo as a child. Her favorite dog was the beagle, with its long, soft ears. She used to daydream about owning a dog.
"Adair, it's summer. There's plenty of edible plants in the area," said John.
"That doesn't mean it's safe for you to stay out until you locate a ford," she argued. "Go north for a week, return to camp, a fresh crew follows the trail north,--"
"How, Adair? How does this fresh crew follow our trail?" "One of the original members can go. You, I think. That way you won't miss anything." She glared at him. "The fresh crew will have a trail to follow, and can cover more ground in a week, then return."
"You want us to keep yo-yo-ing back and forth over the same ground? That's a waste of time. Adair, sometimes I don't think you've learned a thing on this planet," Danizger cried in disbelief. "We go out, we stay out until we know one thing or the other."
"You could be gone for weeks," Julia pointed out. Danziger gave her a remarkably dirty look. "Yes," he said to the evidently smooth-brained doctor. "We could." He looked at Alonzo. Alonzo was conveniently talking to Walman.
Cameron didn't know why they were discussing this. Once out, they could stay as long as necessary. First chance he got, he'd mention it to Danziger. No, the chance might not come for hours, as stubborn as those two were. He whispered to Denner; she passed the message to Alonzo. Cameron wandered over to the remains of supper, followed by the other two. They picked at the white-root 'bread' Bess had cooked up, three pals innocently snacking.
"Okay, what?" asked Alonzo quietly. "How long do y'all want to stay out?" he asked in reply. Denner and Alonzo glanced at each other. She shrugged. Alonzo said, "However long it takes."
Denner protested. "Hey, that could be weeks. You think I want to be the only woman alone with you three for weeks?"
Cameron and Alonzo were stunned. Huh? "Then again..." she said, a wicked twinkle in her eye. She looked both men up and down, then shifted her focus to John and checked him out. "Monday," nodding toward the big blond, "Tuesday," tapping Alonzo on the shoulder, "Wednesday," to Cameron; another nod toward Danziger, "Thursday," and then all three cracked up.
"Actually, men," she said sweetly, "None of you stand a chance." She returned to the original subject. "As for the trip, we need to stay out as long as we need to stay out."
In agreement, the three headed back. "Tuesdays and Fridays, did you say?" kidded Alonzo.
She elbowed him in the ribs.
When they reached the fireside, Alonzo spoke. "Do we have anything to say about this?"
Devon and Danziger both looked surprised. "Yes, of course," said Devon. She hadn't realized the others felt they were being excluded. She had assumed John spoke for all of them. This assumption remained until Alonzo spoke again.
"John, we can talk this over later, and I'm sure you'll see it our way--"
Danziger stood ramrod straight, suspicious. They'd decided something behind his back.
"--we think Devon's right."
John was not amused. He felt strongly that they should stay at the job until it was finished. He felt strongly that those in the scouting party should be supporting him. He felt strongly that he should break a neck or two.
"Alright, Devon. You win. One week. Seven days, and we turn around." Danziger glowered down at the woman. "Is everything settled?"
Devon smiled a cool, official smile, growing calmer as Danziger grew angrier. "Yes. I think we've covered everything." She nodded at the reasonable trio. "Thank you," she said pleasantly.
"Fine," spat Danziger. He turned on his fellow scouts, and gripping the arms of the two men, persuaded them--and Denner--to accompany him to a more private spot on the other side of the Transrover. A big-eyed True crept close enough to overhear.
"What was that all about?" Danziger growled. He released his friends and stood glaring at them.
Alonzo spoke. "John, once we're out there, how can they enforce the seven day limit?" He rubbed his arm. Good thing John was his friend.
Danziger's mouth dropped open. He closed it enough to grin, teeth gleaming in the moonlights, and ran a hand through his hair. "Man," he said admiringly, "Man, that is pure genius. Why didn't I think of it?"
"The operative word here is 'genius'," replied Cameron sourly. He'd have a bruise on his arm.
"Who did think of it?" asked John. He decided to let that little insult slide.
"Cameron," said Denner.
Cameron smiled cockily.
"Good going, Cameron," praised Danziger, punching him in the arm in that playful way men do.
True, seeing that there was to be no excitement, crept away, back to the fire where Magus was telling a story about a little house on a prairie.
"Thanks," said Cameron, rubbing the sorer-than-before arm. He thought it wise to leave before John congratulated him any more. "I'm going on to bed. We've got a lot of territory to cover tomorrow." He looked at Alonzo and Denner. "You guys?"
"Hey," said Alonzo, "You get Wednesdays and Saturdays! This is Thursday." 'Lonz smiled charmingly at Denner, and indicated John with the slightest tilt of his head.
She rolled her eyes and stalked off. Well, she'd brought it on herself. This would be one long trip.
"'Night, John," said Alonzo cheerfully, and he went to find his Julia, leaving a puzzled Danziger alone in the moonlights. He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked around to where he could see Devon and the others.
True was there. He'd have a valid reason to join them. Devon was there. That woman was such an idiot. 'She needs me even more than True does,' he thought, startling himself. Danziger wondered where the thought came from. He tried to dismiss it, but that was like trying to hold 33 apples underwater at the same time. It just kept surfacing.
He leaned against the machine, watching the group. Soon, John went on to bed, where he didn't sleep until long after True had slipped in and gone to sleep herself.
Story Notes:
Hello, everyone, Matchmaker, my first posting, was a short, humorous piece that wrote itself. Territory isn't. It's an action/adventure with smatterings of humor and some romance. (How could there not be romance, given the characters?) Thaw Devon as you wish, whenever you wish, just so long as she's fully recovered by early to mid summer of the same year.
Many, many thanks to Vicky and Linda, who directly aided me, helping keep the characters *in* character. Thanks also to the participants of the fanfic writers' chat; comments from the logs have influenced the direction Territory took.
In order to avoid being influenced by others' stories, I've read very little fan fiction while working on my own. So, while you enjoy (I hope) Territory, I'll catch up on the rest. Tough job, huh?
Territory is fan fiction, written purely for the fun of it. No copyright infrigement intended.
Deb2 (my college nickname, inadvertently revived by Vicky)
Many, many thanks to Vicky and Linda, who directly aided me, helping keep the characters *in* character. Thanks also to the participants of the fanfic writers' chat; comments from the logs have influenced the direction Territory took.
In order to avoid being influenced by others' stories, I've read very little fan fiction while working on my own. So, while you enjoy (I hope) Territory, I'll catch up on the rest. Tough job, huh?
Territory is fan fiction, written purely for the fun of it. No copyright infrigement intended.
Deb2 (my college nickname, inadvertently revived by Vicky)