Day 28
Getting there. I have no idea if this story will actually reach a conclusion or not but it's getting close to the 50,000 word mark.
“Okay folks,” said Rick, their hunt leader. “You know the drill. Stick together, look before you shoot, and get back in one piece.”
“Even the laconas?” one smart alec joked as usual.
“Let’s move out.”
The hunting party set out, bows and hunting knives at the ready. It had taken the colonists sometime before they were able to make their own knives, and could construct an arrowhead capable of penetrating the thick lacona hide. Fortunately for the settlers of Jessu, its skin was not quite as tough as it had been expected.
Vera looked carefully for signs of recent lacona activity. She didn’t know what it was like for the other hunters but to her everything meant something. The sound of the wind whistling through the trees, the turn of a leaf, the state of the ground, even the vibrations through the air. It all meant something.
It didn’t neccesarily have anything to do with the laconas they were after, but that was hardly the point.
They had been in the bush for twenty minutes or so when Vera signaled to her neighbours. One nodded and followed her while another passed it along. Vera moved forward about ten paces stealthily, then slightly off to the side. The other hunter caught a whistle of appreciatation before it blew through his teeth as the two looked on at ther small herd.
Vera was well aware of the arrival of a number of the other hunters, hearing their approach long before she saw them. They used hand signals to communicate with each other to avoid alerting the animals with their voices, and everyone took positions around the herd. Arrows were strung, then final signal released and all the arrows shot towards their targets.
Vera closed her eyes slightly as the laconas cried out in their pain and shock. Second arrows were loosed and some laconas were already dead. Others not yet touched by arrows or wounded searched and ran for the source of their pain, smelling the intruders. More arrows whizzed through their air and hunting daggers were drawn when the laconas got to close.
It was all over so soon and Vera looked away from the bodies. None of their party had been badly injuried, for which she was grateful. Hunting for food she didn’t mind so much, but this was hunting the compeition for food, and wasn’t quite the same thing. She would have liked to sit these hunts out, but the number of livestock at Panorama Hills made them a sitting duck for laconas - and growlers, although the haringberries did a good job of keeping all but the most hungry away. A neccesary evil someone called it.
They did a bit more hunting and caught some lone laconas, but the herd was the triumph of the hunt, and the pelts were shown off with pride in their various forms after they had been skinned, dried and cut into their final forms. Some kept the whole pelt to hang up, while others made clothes. Vera herself, desipte her distate for the hunt itself, had made a nice jacket out of the striped furred pelt of a lacona that kept her upper half nice and toasty during winter.
Vera sat off in a corner of the community centre dance hall. One thing she loved about Panorama Hills was their enthusiasim for regular get togethers - there was a dance party every month. There were a number of musicians amongst them who revelled in the opportunity to play, so they never bothered with pre-recorded music either. It was fun and lively, with the occasional slow song and silly, simple ditty.
As usual, her eyes fell on the attractive Zeke, who was currently dancing with Lillabelle, one of his closest neighbours. The two were often together, Vera observed to herself with a tinge of bitterness and a little jealousy.
She looked down at her feet. She felt so pathetic drooling over someone who probably didn’t even know she exisited. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He probably did know she exisited. Vera frowned a little, not knowing which was worse: him not knowing she existed, or him knowing and not being interested.
Someone sat down on the seat next to her.
“Hey,” said the male voice.
Vera looked up and grinned.
“Hi Darren,” she said cheerfully.
“Hi Vera,” Darren grinned. “So, you planning on staying here all night, or would you like to come dance with me.”
Vera gave a melodramatic sigh.
“Oh if I must,” she replied.
“Oh well, in that case I’ll leave you to it,” Darren teased.
He started to get up but Vera caught his hand.
“Smart alec,” she grinned at him.
“It’s part of my charm,” he replied.
Darren lead Vera out onto the floor, catching the timing on the way so they slipped into the dance routine easily. Vera stayed with Darren for a few dances before the two decided that they were way too tired to continue and they headed back off to the side.
“Want a drink?” Darren asked.
“Sure. The punch’ll be fine.”
“Punch it is then.”
Vera grinned and watched him depart into the crowd before looking back out into the dance floor. Her eyes automatically landing on Zeke.
“You are so pathetic,” she thought to herself.
* * *
The next anniversary of Jessu arrived and this year Vera went. It was nice to be able to catch up with her family, although both brothers had surprises for her that she wasn’t completely equipped to deal with.
“I’m engaged,” Aidan annouced to her with much pleasure. “You remember Jacqueline, of course?”
Vera nodded.
“Joe and Jacinta’s daughter.”
“Yep. She’s going to be moving in with us right after the wedding.”
Vera nodded, forcing a smile on her face.
“Congratulations,” she said.
Tim, on the other hand, was excited about the fact that his wife, Wendy, was now pregnant.
“We’ve gotten so busy with the farm and everything - Wendy’s family was half wiped out by the epidemic, you see,” Tim told her. “It kind of got put off. But not any more! First of many, eh, Wendy?”
Wendy smiled at him and Vera congratulated them.
During the same event, Vera also caught up with Cory, whom she berated for starving his symbiont again.
“Hey, we’re learning vauable things from this experiment.”
“Does the word ‘anorexia’ mean anything to you?”
Cory rolled his eyes.
“That’s party psychological, you know.”
“It also had side effects of causing things like osteoperotus because of the lack of nourishment.”
“So? They can cure that y’know, and you can recover from anorexia.”
“Ahh!” Vera said triumphantly. “But we don’t know what diseases the verasites can get, do we? So we can’t conveinently cure any diseases that it might get. So why tempt fate with nutrition definientcy when we don’t know what the long term side effects are going to be?”
“Because we don’t know what they are, Vera. That’s the whole point. If my symbiont gets sick in the long term from all of this then that data is vaulable.”
“Even if you die?”
“Even then.”
Vera shook her head.
“Giving your life for the sake of science, huh?”
“Giving my life for the sake of hosts of this generation and the next, Vera,” Cory replied firmly. “I’m going to die eventually anyway, my death should be worthwhile.”
“You’re nuts.”
Cory grinned and hugged her, something which Vera found rather startling.
“Thanks for caring,” he said to her.
* * *
Sarah had her baby, a boy whom she nad her husband named Owen. Although the doctor did a test to confirm, both Sarah and Vera knew the moment that they laid eyes on him that he too had a symbiont.
“Oh there are going to be some interesting times ahead of us,” Sarah observed. “It’s definitely going to be interesting raising a child with enhanced senses.”
It wasn’t until later that they truly appreciated those words.
To begin with, Owen was senstive (over-sensitive if you asked some) to sound and changes in light. They eventually had to sound proof his room (and install a baby monitor) just so he could sleep at night without waking at every little noise. When they went out, Sarah made sure his eyes were shaded as bright lights upset his as well. And to top everything off only Sarah could feed him as he would only accept her breast-milk, and not any of the substitutes that the colony had come up with.
Vera shared these stores with her family, and Tim and Wendy were grateful that they didn’t have any problems like that with their son Craig. Certainly Sarah and her family were happy to have Vera’s help.
Spring arrived again and so to did one person become a host to a verasite. The symbiont community had verified that in most (although certainly not all) cases occurred during sprind, when most of the native animals had their young. This was sparking some serious conversations with the medical community about not removing any of the native mineral from anyone systems during this particular season, waiting until mid summer before renewing mineral removal.
Meanwhile at Panorama Hills Zeke and Lillabelle (much to Vera’s dismay) annouced their engagement. Vera found she wasn’t the only disappointed girl out there but that didn’t really diminish the blow all that much. Nonetheless, the rest of the non-pining members of the community celebrated, and many observed “it’s about time”, having predicted the couple would get together long before now.
Vera liked that even less.
Vera threw down her work in disgust and Sarah looked up from feeing Owen.
“Everything okay?” she asked softly.
“No,” Vera replid with a quiet fierceness for Owen’s sake. “I’m never going to get the hang of this!”
Sarah frowned.
“What are you making?”
Vera nodded.
“See? That’s my point. You can’t even tell that that pile of lacona pelt is supposed to be a pair of slippers. I should just give up trying to make shoes. I’m no good at it.”
Sarah chuckled softly.
“I’m sure you’ll manage it eventually.”
“That makes one of us.”
Vera was at her slipper making again the next day when Darren noticed her growing frustration.
“Having fun?”
“Does it look like I’m having fun?” Vera asked, glaring at him.
Darnne frowned with mock-thoughtfulness and looked Vera over.
“No, I can’t say it does.”
Vera cracked a slight smile.
“Silly,” she said.
“It’s part of my charm,” Darren replied merrily. “What’s got you so irritated?”
“This,” Vera replied, holding out her handiwork. “It’s supposed to look like slippers, instead it looks more like mishapes pieces in a constant state of falling apart.”
“Ahh,” Darren nodded, then held out his hands. “May I?”
Vera shrugged.
“Sure, I guess.”
Darren looked everything over, inspecting with a genuine thoughtful frown on his face this time.
“Okay, do you have any spare pelt?”
“A little. Just over there.”
Darren glanced over, then got up geatured for Vera to follow, which she did.
“Okay, what you need to do is this.”
He cut some more of the pelt, creating an extra long piece, then sewed at a couple of joins and pined the rest down.
“Think you can manage from here?” he teased.
Vera smiled thankfully at him.
“Yes, I think so. I never would have thought of that. Thanks so much.”
“Naw, thank you. I didn’t think of making lacona pelt into slippers. Growler and wilour hide is good for shoes, but I didn’t think lacona pelt would be good for any kind of shoe.”
Vera chuckled.
“Well, there you go. Now my feet can be toasty warm in the morning.”
“Next it’s going to be pants, right?”
Vera shrugged.
“Maybe. I’m thinking of collecting enough pelt to make a blanket with.”
“Now that would be nice.”
“I thought so.”
Ever since the original landing numerous colonists had been experimenting with producing their own alcoholic beverages. Vera thought this was strange, but then she had never lived long enough on Earth to appreciate this side of life, and all the alcoholic beverages so far produced she found distasteful. Certainly enough of the colonists agreed (although probably for different reasons) that the experimenting continued - especially as aging was an important aspect of the production process.
Haringberries had slowly but surely started to grow propular amongst livestock farmers everwhere for that remarkable growler-repelling properties. This, however, had lead to an overabundance of haringberries.
Until of course, someone started experimenting with fermented haringberries.
Thus it was at this latest party at Panorama Hills that haringberry wine was served. Many who had drunk back on Earth decided that aging would help, but for a green brew not too bad.
Vera thought it was vile and refused to drink any more.
“You’re not enamoured with it too?” Vera asked Darren as he joined her with two cups of punch.
Darren shrugged.
“Never got to drink on Earth. Expensive. Plus, I was a little young to be drinking,” he grinned at her. “Aparently everything they’ve come up with so far has been substandard so why be mean to my tastebuds?”
Vera laughed and Darren lifted his glass.
“To drinkers. May we all drink drinks we like to drink.”
Vera giggled and they clinked glasses. The glass of punch never got to her mouth however, before Vera started shuddering. Darren drained his glass then noticed Vera jerking.
“Vera?”
Vera, particualy hunching her shoulders, looked up at him briefly before the spasm took over completely and the glass dropped from her hand.
“Vera!”
Darren reached out, catching her before she too fell to the ground. That corner of thr room grew quiet as Darren picked her up. Darren was already halfway to the doctor’s office when someone thought to actually locate the doctor at the party.
“Is she going to be okay?” Darren asked worriedly, watching as Vera shook uncontrollably on the bed.
“Don’t know yet,” the doctor reply wryly. “Give me a hand, will you?”
Darren helped to keep Vera on the bed and prevent her from hurting herself while the doctor ran a few quick tests. Sarah entered the room as the doctor was checking the computer.
“What’s happening?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Darren said grimly.
Sarah walked over to Vera side, frowning a little. She reached out and took her hand.
“Vera once told me that when Cory got his symbiont she figured out that it was starving because she got these false hunger pangs,” Sarah said quietly.
“You hope you might be able to get a similar message?”
“I might not. If it has nothing to do with the symbiont then...”
“Okay folks,” said Rick, their hunt leader. “You know the drill. Stick together, look before you shoot, and get back in one piece.”
“Even the laconas?” one smart alec joked as usual.
“Let’s move out.”
The hunting party set out, bows and hunting knives at the ready. It had taken the colonists sometime before they were able to make their own knives, and could construct an arrowhead capable of penetrating the thick lacona hide. Fortunately for the settlers of Jessu, its skin was not quite as tough as it had been expected.
Vera looked carefully for signs of recent lacona activity. She didn’t know what it was like for the other hunters but to her everything meant something. The sound of the wind whistling through the trees, the turn of a leaf, the state of the ground, even the vibrations through the air. It all meant something.
It didn’t neccesarily have anything to do with the laconas they were after, but that was hardly the point.
They had been in the bush for twenty minutes or so when Vera signaled to her neighbours. One nodded and followed her while another passed it along. Vera moved forward about ten paces stealthily, then slightly off to the side. The other hunter caught a whistle of appreciatation before it blew through his teeth as the two looked on at ther small herd.
Vera was well aware of the arrival of a number of the other hunters, hearing their approach long before she saw them. They used hand signals to communicate with each other to avoid alerting the animals with their voices, and everyone took positions around the herd. Arrows were strung, then final signal released and all the arrows shot towards their targets.
Vera closed her eyes slightly as the laconas cried out in their pain and shock. Second arrows were loosed and some laconas were already dead. Others not yet touched by arrows or wounded searched and ran for the source of their pain, smelling the intruders. More arrows whizzed through their air and hunting daggers were drawn when the laconas got to close.
It was all over so soon and Vera looked away from the bodies. None of their party had been badly injuried, for which she was grateful. Hunting for food she didn’t mind so much, but this was hunting the compeition for food, and wasn’t quite the same thing. She would have liked to sit these hunts out, but the number of livestock at Panorama Hills made them a sitting duck for laconas - and growlers, although the haringberries did a good job of keeping all but the most hungry away. A neccesary evil someone called it.
They did a bit more hunting and caught some lone laconas, but the herd was the triumph of the hunt, and the pelts were shown off with pride in their various forms after they had been skinned, dried and cut into their final forms. Some kept the whole pelt to hang up, while others made clothes. Vera herself, desipte her distate for the hunt itself, had made a nice jacket out of the striped furred pelt of a lacona that kept her upper half nice and toasty during winter.
Vera sat off in a corner of the community centre dance hall. One thing she loved about Panorama Hills was their enthusiasim for regular get togethers - there was a dance party every month. There were a number of musicians amongst them who revelled in the opportunity to play, so they never bothered with pre-recorded music either. It was fun and lively, with the occasional slow song and silly, simple ditty.
As usual, her eyes fell on the attractive Zeke, who was currently dancing with Lillabelle, one of his closest neighbours. The two were often together, Vera observed to herself with a tinge of bitterness and a little jealousy.
She looked down at her feet. She felt so pathetic drooling over someone who probably didn’t even know she exisited. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He probably did know she exisited. Vera frowned a little, not knowing which was worse: him not knowing she existed, or him knowing and not being interested.
Someone sat down on the seat next to her.
“Hey,” said the male voice.
Vera looked up and grinned.
“Hi Darren,” she said cheerfully.
“Hi Vera,” Darren grinned. “So, you planning on staying here all night, or would you like to come dance with me.”
Vera gave a melodramatic sigh.
“Oh if I must,” she replied.
“Oh well, in that case I’ll leave you to it,” Darren teased.
He started to get up but Vera caught his hand.
“Smart alec,” she grinned at him.
“It’s part of my charm,” he replied.
Darren lead Vera out onto the floor, catching the timing on the way so they slipped into the dance routine easily. Vera stayed with Darren for a few dances before the two decided that they were way too tired to continue and they headed back off to the side.
“Want a drink?” Darren asked.
“Sure. The punch’ll be fine.”
“Punch it is then.”
Vera grinned and watched him depart into the crowd before looking back out into the dance floor. Her eyes automatically landing on Zeke.
“You are so pathetic,” she thought to herself.
* * *
The next anniversary of Jessu arrived and this year Vera went. It was nice to be able to catch up with her family, although both brothers had surprises for her that she wasn’t completely equipped to deal with.
“I’m engaged,” Aidan annouced to her with much pleasure. “You remember Jacqueline, of course?”
Vera nodded.
“Joe and Jacinta’s daughter.”
“Yep. She’s going to be moving in with us right after the wedding.”
Vera nodded, forcing a smile on her face.
“Congratulations,” she said.
Tim, on the other hand, was excited about the fact that his wife, Wendy, was now pregnant.
“We’ve gotten so busy with the farm and everything - Wendy’s family was half wiped out by the epidemic, you see,” Tim told her. “It kind of got put off. But not any more! First of many, eh, Wendy?”
Wendy smiled at him and Vera congratulated them.
During the same event, Vera also caught up with Cory, whom she berated for starving his symbiont again.
“Hey, we’re learning vauable things from this experiment.”
“Does the word ‘anorexia’ mean anything to you?”
Cory rolled his eyes.
“That’s party psychological, you know.”
“It also had side effects of causing things like osteoperotus because of the lack of nourishment.”
“So? They can cure that y’know, and you can recover from anorexia.”
“Ahh!” Vera said triumphantly. “But we don’t know what diseases the verasites can get, do we? So we can’t conveinently cure any diseases that it might get. So why tempt fate with nutrition definientcy when we don’t know what the long term side effects are going to be?”
“Because we don’t know what they are, Vera. That’s the whole point. If my symbiont gets sick in the long term from all of this then that data is vaulable.”
“Even if you die?”
“Even then.”
Vera shook her head.
“Giving your life for the sake of science, huh?”
“Giving my life for the sake of hosts of this generation and the next, Vera,” Cory replied firmly. “I’m going to die eventually anyway, my death should be worthwhile.”
“You’re nuts.”
Cory grinned and hugged her, something which Vera found rather startling.
“Thanks for caring,” he said to her.
* * *
Sarah had her baby, a boy whom she nad her husband named Owen. Although the doctor did a test to confirm, both Sarah and Vera knew the moment that they laid eyes on him that he too had a symbiont.
“Oh there are going to be some interesting times ahead of us,” Sarah observed. “It’s definitely going to be interesting raising a child with enhanced senses.”
It wasn’t until later that they truly appreciated those words.
To begin with, Owen was senstive (over-sensitive if you asked some) to sound and changes in light. They eventually had to sound proof his room (and install a baby monitor) just so he could sleep at night without waking at every little noise. When they went out, Sarah made sure his eyes were shaded as bright lights upset his as well. And to top everything off only Sarah could feed him as he would only accept her breast-milk, and not any of the substitutes that the colony had come up with.
Vera shared these stores with her family, and Tim and Wendy were grateful that they didn’t have any problems like that with their son Craig. Certainly Sarah and her family were happy to have Vera’s help.
Spring arrived again and so to did one person become a host to a verasite. The symbiont community had verified that in most (although certainly not all) cases occurred during sprind, when most of the native animals had their young. This was sparking some serious conversations with the medical community about not removing any of the native mineral from anyone systems during this particular season, waiting until mid summer before renewing mineral removal.
Meanwhile at Panorama Hills Zeke and Lillabelle (much to Vera’s dismay) annouced their engagement. Vera found she wasn’t the only disappointed girl out there but that didn’t really diminish the blow all that much. Nonetheless, the rest of the non-pining members of the community celebrated, and many observed “it’s about time”, having predicted the couple would get together long before now.
Vera liked that even less.
Vera threw down her work in disgust and Sarah looked up from feeing Owen.
“Everything okay?” she asked softly.
“No,” Vera replid with a quiet fierceness for Owen’s sake. “I’m never going to get the hang of this!”
Sarah frowned.
“What are you making?”
Vera nodded.
“See? That’s my point. You can’t even tell that that pile of lacona pelt is supposed to be a pair of slippers. I should just give up trying to make shoes. I’m no good at it.”
Sarah chuckled softly.
“I’m sure you’ll manage it eventually.”
“That makes one of us.”
Vera was at her slipper making again the next day when Darren noticed her growing frustration.
“Having fun?”
“Does it look like I’m having fun?” Vera asked, glaring at him.
Darnne frowned with mock-thoughtfulness and looked Vera over.
“No, I can’t say it does.”
Vera cracked a slight smile.
“Silly,” she said.
“It’s part of my charm,” Darren replied merrily. “What’s got you so irritated?”
“This,” Vera replied, holding out her handiwork. “It’s supposed to look like slippers, instead it looks more like mishapes pieces in a constant state of falling apart.”
“Ahh,” Darren nodded, then held out his hands. “May I?”
Vera shrugged.
“Sure, I guess.”
Darren looked everything over, inspecting with a genuine thoughtful frown on his face this time.
“Okay, do you have any spare pelt?”
“A little. Just over there.”
Darren glanced over, then got up geatured for Vera to follow, which she did.
“Okay, what you need to do is this.”
He cut some more of the pelt, creating an extra long piece, then sewed at a couple of joins and pined the rest down.
“Think you can manage from here?” he teased.
Vera smiled thankfully at him.
“Yes, I think so. I never would have thought of that. Thanks so much.”
“Naw, thank you. I didn’t think of making lacona pelt into slippers. Growler and wilour hide is good for shoes, but I didn’t think lacona pelt would be good for any kind of shoe.”
Vera chuckled.
“Well, there you go. Now my feet can be toasty warm in the morning.”
“Next it’s going to be pants, right?”
Vera shrugged.
“Maybe. I’m thinking of collecting enough pelt to make a blanket with.”
“Now that would be nice.”
“I thought so.”
Ever since the original landing numerous colonists had been experimenting with producing their own alcoholic beverages. Vera thought this was strange, but then she had never lived long enough on Earth to appreciate this side of life, and all the alcoholic beverages so far produced she found distasteful. Certainly enough of the colonists agreed (although probably for different reasons) that the experimenting continued - especially as aging was an important aspect of the production process.
Haringberries had slowly but surely started to grow propular amongst livestock farmers everwhere for that remarkable growler-repelling properties. This, however, had lead to an overabundance of haringberries.
Until of course, someone started experimenting with fermented haringberries.
Thus it was at this latest party at Panorama Hills that haringberry wine was served. Many who had drunk back on Earth decided that aging would help, but for a green brew not too bad.
Vera thought it was vile and refused to drink any more.
“You’re not enamoured with it too?” Vera asked Darren as he joined her with two cups of punch.
Darren shrugged.
“Never got to drink on Earth. Expensive. Plus, I was a little young to be drinking,” he grinned at her. “Aparently everything they’ve come up with so far has been substandard so why be mean to my tastebuds?”
Vera laughed and Darren lifted his glass.
“To drinkers. May we all drink drinks we like to drink.”
Vera giggled and they clinked glasses. The glass of punch never got to her mouth however, before Vera started shuddering. Darren drained his glass then noticed Vera jerking.
“Vera?”
Vera, particualy hunching her shoulders, looked up at him briefly before the spasm took over completely and the glass dropped from her hand.
“Vera!”
Darren reached out, catching her before she too fell to the ground. That corner of thr room grew quiet as Darren picked her up. Darren was already halfway to the doctor’s office when someone thought to actually locate the doctor at the party.
“Is she going to be okay?” Darren asked worriedly, watching as Vera shook uncontrollably on the bed.
“Don’t know yet,” the doctor reply wryly. “Give me a hand, will you?”
Darren helped to keep Vera on the bed and prevent her from hurting herself while the doctor ran a few quick tests. Sarah entered the room as the doctor was checking the computer.
“What’s happening?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Darren said grimly.
Sarah walked over to Vera side, frowning a little. She reached out and took her hand.
“Vera once told me that when Cory got his symbiont she figured out that it was starving because she got these false hunger pangs,” Sarah said quietly.
“You hope you might be able to get a similar message?”
“I might not. If it has nothing to do with the symbiont then...”