| |
THE SMELLS IN THE BURROW weren’t all that bad, even if Dun said so himself. Padg was certainly not going to say so. The pups all made appreciative noises, but then they always did, he could be feeding them anything, they ate like the starved. So far that was the first thing Dun, Amber and Padg had jumped on. The trade in food goods had been made as frictionless as they could manage in the cycles they’d had. The transport of goods from the Underfolk was being monopolised by the River Folk for the time being, but Dun would settle for getting the job done in the short term. He knew they’d be spending every waking moment searching for an edge on everyfolk else, but for now that could wait. The food moved from way down deep to way up here, various roots and mushrooms by the bushel, and fish from the rivers and lakes. The trades took place at the very start of Work-span in the new Moot-Hall. Each faction had their representatives to trade, the factories were still producing the cubed food from the Over-folk, but no-one was condemned to work there. Everyone got tallies for the spans worked and everyone seemed to be getting fed. The Over-folk food cubes even seemed to be attracting a market in the tribes of the Under-folk. It took all sorts, Dun supposed.
One of the pups tugged on his cloak, “Papa Dun, I’m finished. Can I go play with Auntie-Kaj now?”
Kaj, seemed to spend all her time there when she wasn’t working, but had her own little bunk near the ground-floor workshops that the bureaucracy offices had been turned into. Although it wasn’t far to walk, they were in the centre of the Atrium, near the pool, where all the newest habs were being built. Nev was often there too. This time he’d sent his apologies ahead, the plan of cabling and piping in OneLove’s new plan needed organising. To make any kind of work-team, the information needed scribing by someone who had hands to do it with.
“Sure, lovely,” Amber said before Dun could reply. She bumped him with her hip and said, “Want a hand cleaning up?”
“Please.”
The smell of Pond-nip tea had started to permeate the burrow. The cooking vent they had in what passed for their kitchen was hot, but boiling anything still took a while. It was always the very first thing Padg did when he got home from Work-span. He was also first up making Racta when they rose. Padg took his stimulants and relaxants very seriously. The found-things mugs they had were massive, as was their kettle. Dun heard them get slammed onto the low, large square table in the bowl at the centre of their hab and then sloshing from their equally large teapot. They had been lucky at the found-things market, having a separate pot for Racta and tea. The taste and smell of the minty-lemony Pond-nip took an age to wash from the pots, so having one for each was a luxury. The pot slammed onto the table. Its lid fell onto the table top with a metallic clunk, then spun a little. Once it had settled, Padg said quietly, “Sorry.”
“Something you want to share?” Dun took one of the mugs.
“Bad meeting?” asked Amber, reaching over Dun for another.
“Gods, what are these Grey Duchy Folk on? We’re trying to make a burrow for everyone, a river between all of us that we can sail to each other on and they keep digging holes and it all drains away! Laly is looking to make some links, reaching to make more of a base if it’s power they’re looking for! I don’t understand. They’re a thorn in my paw, them and their bloody unseen duke and their secret society and all of it. Mad as cave bats the lot of ‘em. I swear the Red Duchy are easier to work with.”
“They can have their moments,” said Dun.
“But at least you know where you are with them, they’re predictable mad. Y’know? Not mad, mad.”
“Perhaps you need a mole in their ranks?” said Amber.
“Devious,” said Padg.
“It’s why you mated me.”
“Who, though?” Dun made appreciative noises over the top of his tea.
“What about that artist? Organised those amazing sculptures in the war?” said Amber.
“Finn,” said Padg. “Why would they trust him?”
“I think he might be just on the edge of everything enough for them to believe he’s on his own agenda,” said Dun.
“Yeah, what if he is?” Padg slurped loudly, face in the steam from his mug. “Gahh.”
A rolling ball of pups crashed across the table. Dun, Amber and Padg leapt back. Kaj scampered after them, across the table and out of the burrow. Dun sighed and sat on his haunches drinking his tea.
