Freehold (23 page)

Kendra nodded understanding and watched politely. She noted that Rob had the firing party drawn up facing away from them and toward the bier on which the body lay. The pallbearers formed a triad of pairs around it and the service was being held just to the left, so the body was between the firing party and the lake.

Soon, the speaking ceased and Citizen Hernandez, in uniform although he was retired, turned smartly to Rob and barked, "Firing party! Fire three volleys!" He raised his hand in salute.

Rob returned the salute and snapped, "Firing party, by my command, port arms."

Swish-
Thump
went seven rifles.

"Half-right face."

The party turned as one, as if mounted on a board.

"Ready."

"Aim . . 
. Fire!"
 

Krack.
Kendra started at the noise. She had expected primers only, not full power loads.

"Aim,
Fire!" Krack.
"Aim,
Fire!" Krack.
Ready, front."

"Pre
-sent . .
 . Arms!"
Rob's arm raised his sword as all seven rifles pivoted to vertical. Next to her, Drew saluted with his blade, as did most of those around her.

Kendra was expecting the next phase, a bugler playing "Taps," and felt the eerie calm that she'd felt on previous occasions at military farewells. A deeply seated part of her longed to be in uniform so she too, could participate. She blinked at damp eyes. At least it was acceptable here. On Earth she'd seen people sneer at the military rituals, even some who were in service. She didn't understand them.

The bugler trailed off the last note, tucked his instrument under his arm and saluted. The tableau was complete, and stayed that way as the pallbearers retrieved the flag covering the body and proceeded to fold it. The UN flag was always folded with the center of the globe up, the Freehold flag folded until only green showed. The finished piece was handed down the line from one to another, each pallbearer stepping back and saluting as he or she finished. The flag ended up in Hernandez' gloves. He spoke an order and all salutes dropped instantly, all across the field. There was a metallic swish of blades entering sheaths, then silence. Hernandez turned and marched to Gatons' widow.

Reverently handing the flag to the old woman, he spoke loudly enough for all to hear, "Lady, this flag is presented with the thanks of a grateful Freehold, in memory of the service performed by your husband." He raised a salute and lowered it very slowly.

Kendra could see the woman crying and blinked again. Military funerals were always hard to watch, in that respect. She expected that to be the end, but there was more.

Hernandez marched back to the bier, retrieved a case, and returned to face the woman again. "I hold your husband's sword," he said, drawing that item from the case, and laying it in her hands. "With it, he served honorably and so honored we return it."

Taking it in both hands, Ms Gatons gripped it silently for a few moments, then handed it back. "I wish to return it to the Freehold, that it may be of service again," she said through weeps.

A murmur passed through the crowd and Kendra turned to Drew again. "What?" she demanded.

Leaning over, he explained, "Usually, a sword is willed to another soldier or kept as a treasure. To return it is a rare gesture of dedication."

Kendra turned back again, to see Hernandez offer his arm to Ms Gatons. He marched slowly and she walked proudly, her eyes shining. They approached the bier. The murmurs rose again.

"Great Goddess . . ." Drew whispered. "They're going to . . ." Kendra tugged at his arm to no avail.

At the bier, Hernandez held the sheath and Gatons fiercely drew the sword. She passed it expertly over her hands, presented it hilt first to Hernandez and silently mouthed, "Thank you."

With a hand at each end, Hernandez slapped the blade over his knee. It had obviously been pre-stressed, as it snapped cleanly and loudly. He returned the two pieces to her and she placed them on the body as someone started clapping. In seconds, the entire crowd was roaring. Rob shouted above the din and another volley sounded from the firing party. Despite the confusion, it was still a crisp, single crack. Letting out a yell, Jaheed finally noticed Kendra again and said, "Destroying the sword says that for another to touch it would lessen the honor he did by serving. It's very rare to see."

The crowd quieted quickly and Hernandez faced the body, saluting again, as Gatons walked to the central fire. She drew out a brand and held it aloft.

Somewhere behind the rampart, a bagpipe began "Amazing Grace." Gatons walked slowly back to the bier and thrust the flaming limb into the base. The old woman with the sword was at the edge of the water, waving wildly and shouting things unheard by Kendra. The woman made a chopping motion with her sword and stepped back as Ms Gatons leaned her weight against the huge structure and heaved. In moments, the pallbearers and Hernandez joined her.

The bier slid to the shore on rails and began floating slowly out into the lagoon. Kendra began crying again and noticed others were too. The piper sounded the last bar as the flames licked upward.

Then, with a mighty wail that seemed to shake the earth, came the sound of many pipes, joining the first in another verse. The lead piper crested the berm, followed by others from all sides. The triumphant notes were almost drowned in the noise from the crowd and Kendra was blinded with tears, holding her hands to her face to cover it. She didn't see the pipers converge in the center and form up behind the fire.

She regained her composure in time for the three women to reopen the circle, in almost the same manner it had been closed. She followed Jaheed as he fell into a line with the others. There was a touch at her elbow and Rob and Marta were there.

Gatons was making her way along the line, greeting each person individually.
I can't be here!
Kendra thought to herself, but by then, Jaheed was shaking hands with the woman.

Letting go, Gatons turned to Marta and hugged her close. "Thank you so much for coming!"

Rob held her hands, then hugged her also. "Warrant Leader McKay," she said almost formally, "thanks for leading the firing party."

"You're welcome, lady," he replied. "It was an honor."

Gatons then turned to Kendra. "I don't believe we've met," she said, but there was a friendly twinkle in her eye.

"Kendra Pacelli, ma'am, uh, lady," she stumbled, holding hands.

"Kendra is our ladyfriend," Marta explained, "and is a veteran of the UN Forces on Mtali."

"Interesting!" Gatons smiled, "We are honored by your presence," she assured Kendra.

"It has been a privilege," she replied.

Kendra joined them at the wake and had an enjoyable time. There were toasts and discussions of the happy times in Gatons' life, then food and dancing. When she left with Rob, Marta and Drew were still dancing, along with a few other diehards. She discovered she felt really good and joined Rob in his apartment. Sex was becoming a pleasant pastime and she decided that life in the Freehold was good after all. She just wished she could let people back home know. She cried quietly after they made love and he held her gently until she fell asleep.

"Great things are done when men and mountains meet."

—William Blake

The next weekend was lovely. It was autumn, brisk and clear, which Kendra had always liked, and it was perfect for a camping excursion Rob had been urging her to accompany him on. She was a bit hesitant, not thrilled at the idea of sleeping in a tent outside, but had agreed. He promised to have her back in time for work. She noted that he didn't promise sleep.

They took his other vehicle, a battered groundtruck that had badly scratched and faded panels, but whose turbine sounded brand new, and tossed in some gear from his warehouse. She asked if it was possible to get a rent discount, since she wasn't using the substantial storage unit that came with the apartment.

"No," he responded reasonably, "but you can rent it to someone else, can't you?"

It had never occurred to her. Sublet it? Well, sure. Not on Earth, of course, but here . . .

They headed west into the mountains. The city ended quickly, commerce giving way to light industry giving way to a few wealthy houses on large lots, to scattered farms, to a quick rise in elevation. There was no autocontrol and no barricade on the edge of the road as they wound up through the trees, and she gripped the arms of the seat. She wondered why aircars weren't more popular.

"Problem?" he asked.

"Scared," she replied.

He nodded and slowed. "Better?"

"A little," she replied, watching the tall pines and maples and local nuggetwood flash past. The air was clean and warm, the view across the seaside plain breathtaking and the dark hills romantic in their mystery. She'd never been into wilderness this untamed.

Shortly, they turned off onto a side road that was unfused dirt. It was narrower, and areas were gullied away by rain. Rob slowed further. They were no longer on the edge of the hill, so Kendra relaxed slightly. The trees thinned a bit and a grassy meadow opened up. It had been mowed recently and there was a fence at the edge of it. A sign detailed ownership, inspection dates and listed a contact number for emergencies. "Here we are," Rob told her. He parked the truck to one side and jumped out.

"Oh, Rob, it's beautiful!" she breathed. The east side tapered off onto the hillside and looked across the plain to the East Sea far beyond. There was the streak of a launching shuttle just visible from the starport. Then she noticed the silence. A few birds, the whispering of twigs and leaves and nothing else. It was eerie. It was very arousing. She grabbed him.

They threw a blanket to the ground and made love immediately. Kendra had had a fantasy of making love in the wilderness ever since she had first discovered her sexuality, and here was the chance. No distractions, no people. It was very erotic, and she orgasmed in a crashing series of waves. They lay still afterward, until a few Earth-born bugs began to get too inquisitive. They redressed and Rob explained the tent as he pitched it. She helped by handing over poles.

It was the same design the Vikings had used 1500 years before: a wedge over a framework of poles at every edge. No ropes, no fuss. Once pitched, they each grabbed a side and moved it to a flatter location. Rob tossed in an air mattress and pulled the tassel to inflate it, then added quilts. The truck contained a small fridge for food, a framework that unfolded as a toilet seat and a couple of chairs. He built and lit a small fire, a tough task in the even thinner atmosphere at this altitude, and dragged dead boughs from the forest to feed it. He showed Kendra how to chop wood with an axe and she gleefully got blisters and a splinter until she remembered the gloves he'd handed her.

They went on a short hike, Rob slinging a heavy rifle over his shoulder and handing her a much lighter one. She made him wait at the gate while she read the owners' sign. Rob's name was one of those listed. "Yours?" she asked, surprised.

"For now it's a retreat that friends and I own. When the city expands more, we'll build it as a campsite and rent it out. That will keep the scenery intact."

"What about the land lower down?" she asked. "Once it's built you won't have a view."

"Most of it is unsuitable for basic construction. That was one of our considerations. It would take expensive methods to construct anything, and we own quite a strip of it anyway. And if and when that type of stuff moves in, we'll sell it as commercial property. Right now, we are paying a local to conduct weekly perimeter patrols in decent weather, just to maintain the claim. And it is registered with Public Records."

They strolled around the western edge, gathering berries and a few edible plants as they walked. They took breaks for her benefit; the air was almost too thin and she yawned often. The trees whispered above them in the thin breeze and Iolight dappled the ground. She saw occasional animals, including Earth squirrels and the local rabbitlike bugses. The animals chittered back at them, curious but not terribly afraid. It was amazingly idyllic. "Give me your gun," Rob interrupted.

She handed it over immediately and silently, wondering what was wrong. "Mine's too big for this," he said as he sighted and fired. The rifle popped and twitched and there was a sound of something crashing through the branches. He went forward at a run and she hurried to catch up.

He'd shot a rabbit-sized animal off a tree limb and it curled in death on the leafy ground. She felt queasy. "What's that?" she asked, knowing part of the answer already.

"A scrambler, and dinner. I brought other stuff if you don't want any."

"Thanks," she acknowledged. No, she would not be eating scrambler.

After smelling it roast on the fire, she agreed to try some. It was utterly delicious, rubbed with local herbs and crisped on the outside. She drank some wine, then a bit more, and had a few bites. Then some more wine and a few more bites of meat. She knew she'd have a philosophical war with herself later, but for now she tabled it. Her ears were roaring.

As dusk grew, the city began to light up, along with the few ships large enough to be seen from here. The cityscape turned into a long, twinkling curve below, tapering off in an arm to the north where the road led to Delph', curving northeast around the bay, and cut off on the south in a broad arc that was the delta of the Drifting River. Rob dragged out a pair of binoculars and pointed out where they must live. It was at the edge of the glare of downtown, and she nodded.

The fire died down to embers, leaving a rich smoky taste to the air. He guided her back from it and, after their eyes adjusted, he pointed out the constellations, many of them the same as on Earth, but much easier to see through the clear air without city glare. It was stunning. Thousands of stars and the Milky Way were clearly visible, as opposed to tens within an inhabited area on Earth or mere hundreds in such preserved "wilds" as the Boundary Waters. And there was the Sun, he pointed out to her. It was a barely visible pinpoint near Sirius.