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  "Look," Taylor told him. "See how these tracks converge? They're going in that direction. If we circle around, sooner or later, we'll find where the deer went." He pointed to the spoor outlined in the snow. The naked gray-barked trees creaked tiredly in the wind. Light was fading.

  "In the winter," Taylor said. "Deer gather into groups after the rut in areas that provide food and cover, such as swamps or thick scrub. The only time deer are vulnerable to, say, wild dogs and coyotes, is when the snow gets too deep. That's when they get trapped because they can't outrun them.”

  "Like the section down there?" Albert blew into his hands and pointed to a tangle of briars surrounding clumps of stunted willow and dogwood bushes near the river.

  "Maybe." Taylor pointed to a trail in the snow where hoof prints disappeared through a prickly hedge. "See this? It has fresh tracks going in both directions. It may go from a yarding area out to a feeding area. Let's come here tomorrow, before dawn. Maybe we'll see something.”

  Albert's eyes lit up. "Let's do it."

  Over the winter, Albert tracked three herds of deer to their yards and culled them to get much-needed meat for the community. He also broke ice on the river to provide swimming areas for waterfowl, which he harvested using snares and crossbows. Nothing was wasted; the feathers and down from the Canada geese went to the sewing circles that gathered around the stoves during the cold, empty days of winter.

  #

  Taylor didn't bathe often since there was no running hot water and the only warm place was next to a stove. The sour smell of unwashed bodies had become an accepted norm.

  One morning, Dr. Encirlik came to Taylor’s office.

  "Our sanitation worries me. People aren't washing themselves or their clothes enough. I'm concerned about public health." She paused. "Something has to be done before it becomes a real problem."

  "Problem? What kind of problem?"

  Dr. Encirlik looked over her glasses in the manner of a lecturer looking at a student. "The sanitary conditions on the Hill are atrocious. We're ripe for infestations of body parasites, such as fleas, bedbugs, or other vectors to spread disease. If there were an outbreak of a bacterial infection, our community wouldn't stand a chance.”

  Taylor became acutely conscious of his own body odor. "Doesn't the cold suppress these vectors?"

  "Yes, but there are no antibiotics left. An outbreak in our over-crowded living conditions would be like the Black Death." Dr. Encirlik removed her glasses and polished them while watching Taylor. "I hope I haven't alarmed you."

  #

  It took Taylor a week to organize the construction of a public bathhouse. It was next to the river just below the dam. They ran a water line from the river to a large wood stove to heat the water. The stove produced a steady stream of hot water and warmed the interior to a comfortable temperature.

  Women and small children used the facilities in the early afternoon, followed by the men and boys. During the mornings, the bathhouse was the community laundry. Laundry flapped like flags from clothes' lines and gave the Hill a festive appearance. The bathhouse brought a major uplift in the Clan's morale--it was a touch of civilization.

  #

  "You bitch. If you go near my husband again, I'll kill you." Shirley O'Connor yanked the slender woman's hair and hit her face with the back of her hand. The ring on Shirley’s finger drew blood.

  The woman was clad in a partially open gown. Shirley struck the woman's upraised arm. The woman stumbled and landed hard on the muddy ground.

  Shirley kicked her. "Take that, you slut."

  "No, no, don't."

  As the woman scrambled away, Shirley kicked her again. The woman gained her feet and ran down the narrow alley, gown flapping.

  The woman ran into Fred Del Corso's arms.

  "Now just a damn minute." Fred grabbed the bloodied woman and pushed her to one side.

  The woman closed her gown, crossing her arms over her breasts.

  “Hold everything, both of you, right now." Fred barred Shirley from advancing. "What the hell's going on?" he asked.

  "This bitch--"

  "She's crazy." The woman's voice cracked into falsetto.

  "Shut up. Both of you, shut up," Fred yelled. "All right, who're you?" He pointed to the injured woman.

  "I'm Noelle Smith and I--"

  "You're a slut." Shirley's voice echoed down the alley. "A whore." A door cracked open and a face peered out.

  "Enough," Fred said. "Shirley, what happened?"

  "This slut is screwing my husband."

  "She's insane," Noelle said. "She tried to kill me."

  Fred glanced up.

  More people emerged from houses, staring, eyes wide.

  "All right, let's go." Fred pointed down the alley. "Move it. You're both under arrest for disturbing the peace.”

  He led them into Taylor's cluttered office. "These two were disturbing the peace. That means you're involved."

  "Hmm.” Taylor was taken aback by how different each looked from the other.

  Shirley's long blond hair went in all directions, starkly outlining her pale, tight-lipped face. She wore a tan over-size winter jacket that almost reached her jeans-clad knees. Shirley towered over the bare-footed woman whose torn house-gown was splattered with mud and blood.

  Noelle was in her twenties and thin to the point of emaciation. Her heart-shaped face and dark hair, cut short in a style many women now favored, made her look almost elfin. She shivered and dabbed a grimy rag to the cut on her bruised face.

  "You, sit here." Taylor pointed to Noelle. "And you, sit over there." He indicated that Shirley should sit on the opposite side of the rough-sawn plank table. "What's going on?"

  Both women started speaking.

  "Shut-up," Fred said loudly. "You." He pointed at Shirley. "State your name and what you were doing.”

  "Shirley O'Connor. This whore is screwing my husband and--"

  "That's enough." Fred’s voice drowned out Shirley’s words. "You." He pointed to Noelle. "State your name and what happened.”

  "I'm Noelle Smith. This woman tried to kill me--"

  "You deserve a fate worse than death, you whoring bitch."

  "Hey, hey, that's enough." Taylor raised his voice to a level that usually got obedience. "If this involves Jack O'Connor, we need him, too. Fred, get O'Connor.”

  "This slimy, disease-infested slut--"

  "Shut up," Fred said. "I'm not gonna tell you again.” He stood over Shirley and wagged his finger at her. "We're gonna wait 'til Jack arrives. Got it?"

  When Jack entered, Noelle rose, one hand holding her gown closed and the other extended to him. "Jack, tell them--"

  "You slut." Shirley jumped up. "If you look at my husband again, I'm going to claw your eyes out--"

  "You're mad."

  "Fred, get this under control," Taylor said.

  "Everyone shaddup." Fred slammed his ham-like fist down.

  The table bounced. The room became quiet.

  "These are the rules: You speak when I tell you. You." Fred pointed to Shirley. "Tell us your side of the story. No name-calling, yelling or finger pointing. Understand?"

  "This tramp--"

  "No name-calling." Fred's voice rose. "Remember?" His hand extended until his index finger almost touched Shirley's nose.

  She swallowed and nodded. "This, thing," she said, acid dripping from every word.

  Fred raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat.

  "Jack started coming home late. He'd go to the bathhouse in the afternoon and not return for hours. He never told me where he'd been. Well, I finally realized what was going down when I saw him sweet-talking to that..." She pointed at Noelle. "Her. Right away I knew something was happening. He was grinning like an idiot, oblivious he was making a fool of himself. So, I decided to have a discussion with... her."

  "Shirley," Fred said.

  "I went over to her grubby hovel this afternoon. It's really disgraceful." She sniffed. "It matches her appearance."
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  "Please," Fred said. "Spare us."

  "Well, after this slut serviced this weak-minded husband of mine, I went to see her.”

  "Shirley," Fred raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat.

  "I'm sorry. When this lady opened her legs for the whole world, he had to take a turn, too--"

  "All right," Fred said. He frowned. "You've had your say."

  "It's just not true," Noelle said. "It's not the way she says it is. She makes it sound so cheap." Her voice quavered and sank in volume. "I got to know Jack after he made a snowman for my little Martha. He's the only man, other than her father, who ever took an interest in her." She paused and smiled at Jack.

  "He likes children, he likes mine. As we talked, we found we like a lot of the same things. He wouldn't spend time with me if she gave him the affection he needs and the children he wants--"

  "How dare you say that, you bitch. Just keep your filthy claws out of my Jack, or I'll--"

  "Or what, Mrs. O'Connor?" Fred asked.

  "Nothing." Shirley's nostrils flared.

  "This afternoon," Noelle said. "After Jack and I were--"

  "In bed," Shirley’s voice rang out. "Screwing his brains out."

  "Shirley, please," Fred said. "You've had your say."

  "Well, after Jack left, after we'd, you know, been together. The first thing I knew, this madwoman burst in and grabbed my hair and hit me. I couldn't stop her--she's bigger and stronger than I am. So I ran and she chased me." Noelle sighed. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I just wanted to be with Jack." She dabbed her eyes. The bloodstained rag left red traces on her cheek.

  "Jack," Fred said. "Are you seeing her?" He nodded toward Noelle.

  "Well, yeah, I guess I am." Jack looked up, voice hesitant. "It's kind of hard to explain. Because in a way, I still love Shirley; she's my wife. I also love Noelle." His voice became stronger. "Y'see, Shirley takes me for granted. Noelle is more exciting. And she has a child."

  "How dare you?" Shirley jumped to her feet. "Why, you selfish, sex-crazed, self-centered son of a bitch--"

  "Oh, shut-up," Jack said. "I'm tired of your temper-tantrums and excuses in bed.”

  Shirley flinched as though she had been struck. Her face went ash white. She sat down slowly like something was broken, as though every movement caused pain.

  "Shirley, you'd better get used to it," Jack said. "You can still have me, but not exclusively, not anymore. The world's changed. I've changed. I won't put up with you running my life any longer. Life's too short and too uncertain for me not to do what I want to do--not when I could die anytime."

  "But, Jack, our marriage vows--"

  "Noelle and I have a relationship. Period. We can stay married, but there're things I want that you can't or won't give me I'll get elsewhere." Jack wagged his finger at Shirley.

  "How can you do this to me?" Shirley's voice quavered. "We're husband and wife. You have a duty, you took vows, you can't..." She sagged into a chair as though wounded. Tears filled her eyes. Her lower lip quivered.

  "Shirley, you've been my best friend and partner. I've trusted you with my life." Jack grasped her hand. "But there's aspects of our relationship that don't work. You're too hard, too competitive and sometimes, too mean. At times, I need a relationship that's not so demanding. Noelle gives that to me. That's the way it is, that's the way it's going to be. The choice is yours. You can have a part of me, or none of me."

  Shirley withdrew her hand.

  "Noelle," said Fred. "What've you got to say?"

  "I like Jack. I need company... his company." She lowered her eyes. "I've been alone since I lost my boyfriend. Now, since Jack came into my life, I look forward to getting up each morning instead of dreading the day. He pays attention to me, he fills up my empty life and he likes my little girl.”

  "Did you know that Jack was married?" asked Taylor.

  "Yes, but I don't care. I don’t want to be alone.”

  "Did you know that Shirley is his wife?"

  "Yes, and she threatened to kill me. I'm not trying to steal him from her. I'm not even jealous when he goes home to her. I'm just grateful for what little time we have together."

  Noelle shivered and drew her ragged gown tight. It was as though she was trying to cover something revealed. "You have no idea how it is to be a woman without a man in this world."

  "Jack, how could you do this to me?" Tears ran down Shirley's face. She seemed smaller, more vulnerable.

  "Well, life isn't the same as before." Jack shrugged. "I like Noelle and I like her child," he said. "They fill a need in my life. I'm not giving them up."

  Fred threw his hands up. "Look, you're a married man, you can't just go and have an affair with anyone you want.”

  "Sure and that's fine for you to say. You've got a wife and children. I don't have any children. In the past year, I can't count the number of times I've been shot at. I can die at any time. If I die, none of me survives, none. So, I'm going to live life to its fullest. And if I can, have children."

  "Don't you care what people think about you?"

  "Name the people you've buried in Cedar Point cemetery," Jack said. "You can't, because there's too many--all forgotten. Life may be cheap, but it's still dear to me. There are things that I want out of life. Nothing will change that.”

  "Well, Taylor," Fred said. "What d'you think?"

  "I've got no desire to rule on private morality. I'm more concerned about survival." Taylor sighed.

  "Well, what should we do about this?" Fred asked.

  "We can't tell people how to live their lives, especially behind closed doors. We can only ask they live peacefully."

  "Well, they were disturbing the peace."

  "True." Taylor nodded. "There're penalties for that. I don't want to--and will not--set moral standards."

  "You mean these two can sin without penalty?" Fred jerked his thumb toward Noelle and Jack.

  "That's between them and their moral values. Whatever they do, they must do privately, without violence and without disturbing the peace." Taylor stared at them. "Shirley, if anything happens to Noelle, we know of your threats. There'll be no mercy if you resort to violence.”

  "But she--"

  "Shirley, this is not a Clan matter unless you resort to violence. If you do, there are severe penalties. Do you understand?"

  "It isn't fair." Her lower lip quivered.

  "It may not be fair. The Collapse wasn’t fair. Life isn’t fair," Taylor said. "I can't solve every problem.”

  "If that's what you want," Fred said, "I guess I gotta go along with it." A frown lingered on his face.

  "No more violence and no more disturbing the peace." Taylor wagged a finger at them. "Otherwise, exile. Is that clear?"

  Both Shirley and Noelle nodded, their reluctance obvious.

  Chapter 21

  In the In-between

  The Egg-that-Flies plunged onward, a dark shape in a dark place.

  It has been a long time, Bilik Pudjata thought. And we’re still only halfway to the Kota system.

  He stared at the holographic model of the Kota system he had created, piece by piece, based upon ongoing fragmentary observations. It shared certain similarities with his system: two large outer planets and at least three small inner planets. He was certain this was from where the strange creature had transmitted its image.

  It wasn't possible to deploy an antenna similar to the deep space observatory on Qu'uda. At their current speed, it would erode away rapidly. Anything protruding from the surface received the punishing impact of hydrogen atoms at one-third the speed of light. Only short-life sensors worked.

  Once the ship reached its maximum speed, Bilik’s sensors saw a faint pinprick-sparkle of radiation outlining its nose. The tiny sprinkles of light came from atoms impacting at near relativistic velocity. The bow, once a pockmarked half-asteroid, became smooth and rounded after years of such erosion.

  Within the ship, Bilik found life had a steady rhythm. There were few demands ot
her than its passengers maintaining their physical and mental condition. At first, many focused upon the universe outside, confirming the observations of the Star-Seeker, which had been destroyed by the alien Hoo-Lii on its expedition to the Deka star system. There were no surprises. Then they turned inward, to concerns about their positions in a small society.

  #

  Cha KinLaat DoMar, an environmental specialist, was also the navigator and took it upon himself to chart the space about the Kota system. He needed to set a course to minimize the impacts of cosmic debris on the ship. His sensors monitored their destination and the reference stars he used to plot their course. He set the ship’s course to arrive above the ecliptic of the Kota system so as to bypass much of its cometary belt and its debris.

  Bilik visited the navigator, Cha KinLaat DoMar, at his station, far forward in the nose of the Egg-That-Flies. The room was full of electronic equipment, which had red symbols that flickered assurance all was well.

  "Look." Cha KinLaat pointed to the holographic plot. A red line grew before them and climbed upward against the lacy green grid that was marked off in time and energy. It was a second order extrapolation showing data from the third planet in the system. "Kota’s electromagnetic signals radiate at ever-growing strengths."

  "Yes, I see," Bilik said. "However, I haven't seen any signals like those we received on Qu'uda.”

  "Maybe they've changed the format of their transmissions," Cha KinLaat said. "There're a lot of data recorded here.”

  "Perhaps," Bilik said. "We did postulate the signal was broadcast simultaneously from multiple points on the originating planet. Let me show you." He called up data from the original deep space observations and built a new holographic image that illustrated the infinitesimal differences in reception time.

  "I didn't know that."

  "It wasn't much discussed. The specialists had to rework the signal many times before they came to this hypothesis. It wasn’t deemed newsworthy." Bilik highlighted the differences in orange. "You see, while working to improve the signal quality, they found they could separate the signal into multiple elements, then recombine them to eliminate the time lag." He changed the holographic image to plot time differences and distance. "If the specialists were right, we now know the size of the planet from the spread in the reception front."