Read Online A Long Time Until Now by Michael Z. Williamson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Z. Williamson
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large encounters. Honor challenges.”
Oglesby said, “The language. It’s very rich in phonemes. There’s a theory about that, and this seems to fit with it. Some of the African languages have two hundred phonemes, and by the time you get to South America or the Pacific, you’re down to a dozen or two. It’s as if language devolved with isolation and distance.”
Elliott said, “Well, let’s keep our distance. We’re not friends yet, just visitors.”
Gina felt better. The lieutenant had been worthless for the first couple of days, but now he was acting like a leader, and there were some good skills in this ersatz squad. They might actually survive.
One of the men whipped it out from under his loincloth and urinated, right there. She wondered if it were symbolic, but the others didn’t seem to take any particular notice and kept walking. It was just a thing to do.
There were utters of disgust from the troops.
Barker said, “That’s common among the Dene cultures, and they may be distantly related. No real modesty.”
Dalton said, “Yeah, they’ve clearly never heard the word of God.”
She rolled her eyes and replied, “Private toilets existed before Christianity. And some cultures still have public ones, even with Christian influence. Finns. Japanese.”
He didn’t have a response to that. Good.
Elliott said, “Well, he’s done, so we follow them. If anyone needs a rest break, now would be good.”
She felt a little pressure, but she wasn’t going to drop pants and squat in front of everyone. She’d find somewhere later.
“Permission to uncover, sir? Since Sergeant Barker did?” she asked.
The LT paused to think for a few moments, then said, “Yeah, I don’t see why not. Keep your helmets handy, and armor on.”
Arriving at the village was neither the huge production Sean Elliott worried it might be, nor the complete nonissue he hoped. Children came running out, shouting, then some adults. The rest waited.
Led by the hunters, they strode in. The terrain was not very defensible against animals. The huts had doors facing the central fire. There were some midden heaps and obvious workshop arrangements, but no real wall. Wolves could come right in, or bears. They didn’t seem afraid of people in this time, but perhaps the fire helped.
The kids were like kids anywhere, dancing around, reaching out hands. Hey, mister, did you bring us anything? He wasn’t sure what would pass as candy or treats here. He settled for smiling and holding out a hand for them to grasp and rub. Then he had to bat inquisitive fingers away from his weapon and gear. They didn’t seem to be trying to take anything, just curious. He felt hands tug at his ruck and had to turn and wave a boy away.
And they reeked of sweat and dead animals. There were flies, too. There hadn’t been many up on the ridges. There were here, at least around the guts and other animal processing.
It was apparent that the locals had visitors periodically, and were probably peaceful. They were unafraid of the soldiers, and some of them did no more than look up before returning to work.
The village had perhaps a dozen huts, ranging in size from pup tent to TEMPER tent. Around them, people beat leather on frames, yanked at animal guts, twisted rope, practiced with spears, knit some kind of net, probably for fishing, and lolled about.
It wasn’t civilization, but it was human settlement.
A group of four headed their way, shooing people aside. They were presumably some kind of leadership.
They were a good-looking people, tall and straight of stature, almond skin, dark, broad eyes and hair that was tightly curled but not quite afro. At least the men were. The women had plenty of butt, if you went in for that sort of thing, and ponderous breasts. Well, no bras, constantly nursing, that wasn’t unreasonable, just unfamiliar. They probably looked like that in modern A-stan, but they wore clothes.
The man in the lead spread his arms in a
Oglesby said, “The language. It’s very rich in phonemes. There’s a theory about that, and this seems to fit with it. Some of the African languages have two hundred phonemes, and by the time you get to South America or the Pacific, you’re down to a dozen or two. It’s as if language devolved with isolation and distance.”
Elliott said, “Well, let’s keep our distance. We’re not friends yet, just visitors.”
Gina felt better. The lieutenant had been worthless for the first couple of days, but now he was acting like a leader, and there were some good skills in this ersatz squad. They might actually survive.
One of the men whipped it out from under his loincloth and urinated, right there. She wondered if it were symbolic, but the others didn’t seem to take any particular notice and kept walking. It was just a thing to do.
There were utters of disgust from the troops.
Barker said, “That’s common among the Dene cultures, and they may be distantly related. No real modesty.”
Dalton said, “Yeah, they’ve clearly never heard the word of God.”
She rolled her eyes and replied, “Private toilets existed before Christianity. And some cultures still have public ones, even with Christian influence. Finns. Japanese.”
He didn’t have a response to that. Good.
Elliott said, “Well, he’s done, so we follow them. If anyone needs a rest break, now would be good.”
She felt a little pressure, but she wasn’t going to drop pants and squat in front of everyone. She’d find somewhere later.
“Permission to uncover, sir? Since Sergeant Barker did?” she asked.
The LT paused to think for a few moments, then said, “Yeah, I don’t see why not. Keep your helmets handy, and armor on.”
Arriving at the village was neither the huge production Sean Elliott worried it might be, nor the complete nonissue he hoped. Children came running out, shouting, then some adults. The rest waited.
Led by the hunters, they strode in. The terrain was not very defensible against animals. The huts had doors facing the central fire. There were some midden heaps and obvious workshop arrangements, but no real wall. Wolves could come right in, or bears. They didn’t seem afraid of people in this time, but perhaps the fire helped.
The kids were like kids anywhere, dancing around, reaching out hands. Hey, mister, did you bring us anything? He wasn’t sure what would pass as candy or treats here. He settled for smiling and holding out a hand for them to grasp and rub. Then he had to bat inquisitive fingers away from his weapon and gear. They didn’t seem to be trying to take anything, just curious. He felt hands tug at his ruck and had to turn and wave a boy away.
And they reeked of sweat and dead animals. There were flies, too. There hadn’t been many up on the ridges. There were here, at least around the guts and other animal processing.
It was apparent that the locals had visitors periodically, and were probably peaceful. They were unafraid of the soldiers, and some of them did no more than look up before returning to work.
The village had perhaps a dozen huts, ranging in size from pup tent to TEMPER tent. Around them, people beat leather on frames, yanked at animal guts, twisted rope, practiced with spears, knit some kind of net, probably for fishing, and lolled about.
It wasn’t civilization, but it was human settlement.
A group of four headed their way, shooing people aside. They were presumably some kind of leadership.
They were a good-looking people, tall and straight of stature, almond skin, dark, broad eyes and hair that was tightly curled but not quite afro. At least the men were. The women had plenty of butt, if you went in for that sort of thing, and ponderous breasts. Well, no bras, constantly nursing, that wasn’t unreasonable, just unfamiliar. They probably looked like that in modern A-stan, but they wore clothes.
The man in the lead spread his arms in a
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