his hanging bed was empty.
Darn, she'd hoped she could watch how he got out of this unstable thing, again. Yesterday, when he had demonstrated getting in, it had looked simpler than putting on socks. Then, she had tried to do it. Tem-aki swallowed at the memory and was still amazed that she had gotten in without landing face-first on the floor.
But now, she was stuck in the darn thing.
The cat was gone, too, so there was nothing to grab onto, except a saffron robe, which was useless.
At least, there was no one around to watch her make a fool of herself.
Tem-aki carefully sat up. The flimsy fabric jiggled. Quickly, she put one leg over each side to balance it, then sat up the rest of the way. She began to move her left leg to the other side, but that sent the hammock rocking so violently, that she quickly grabbed on with both hands and put her left leg back. Sitting there, felt surprisingly stable, as long as she didn't move.
Was this odd bed some form of prison?
She shook her head, quickly discounting the idea. The man had slept in one, too, and she could see where several ropes had previously been secured to hold over a dozen of the things; it was most likely that this was a normal thing for their culture.
She sensed a gentle movement through her feet. Picking them up, the hammock began rocking, again, so she put them back down. She realized that before her feet had touched the floor, the boat had seemed stable as a normal building. So maybe whoever had come up with this bed's design had been clever. Except this was one of the most treacherous things she had ever tried to get on or off of.
Well, this and that slick tunnel floor.
After several failed attempts, Tem-aki grabbed the hammock's sides with both hands, folded her legs around the crazy bed and flipped the thing over. Once she was suspended under it, she released her grip with her legs, then lowered herself the short distance to the floor, and then she released her hands. She quickly got up, dusted herself off, flipped the crazy bed back and draped the saffron robe over it.
Now free, she went to the skull and took out her tricorder.
To her surprise, instead of plastoid, it had a 4 on the hardness scale. Further analysis revealed that it was made of a single piece of quartz crystal. She blinked in surprise, having assumed a culture where men wore tent-like dresses and moved their little boats by muscle power, was too backward to use, much less build, technology. And now, she learned that Cameron had the technology to shape a giant quartz crystal into a complex 13.0 by15.1 inch sculpture, which not only had a mirror-like finish, but was capable of some sort of visual depiction.
Amazing.
Had the holographic aspect been a trick of the light?
Was this thing capable of verbal communication, or did this culture use ESP or something else equally bizarre?
For certain, Cameron was not much of a talker.
The only other things her tricorder was able to verify about the skull was that the jaw was articulated and that there was no electromagnetic current. In short, the oddly beautiful piece seemed to be nothing more than an inanimate sculpture.
A lump of artistic quartz with a moveable mouth. Yet no sound had come from it.
Yet, she was sure it was much more.
As she contemplated that riddle, she smelled something delicious. Mouth watering, she headed up the ladder to the eating area.
~0~
Cameron used two bamboo cooking sticks to turn the strips of bacon in the deep skillet and wasn't surprised when Captaintemakiatano followed the aroma into the galley. In fact, the only thing that surprised him was that she had not put on the robe he'd left for her. The rest of the group should soon return from their pilgrimage to Dragon Ridge, where they had begun preparing things for the Summer Solstice Ceremony.
While he could appreciate how comfortable it was to walk around in one's under-garments, many of the others would not. In fact, some, like Varlet, who seemed to think
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