Delta Pavonis Read Online Free Page B

jointed body and the rough surface making for what struck her as comical progress. It bounced its way over to her stack of crates and stopped. The driver dismounted, and he was only slightly less picturesque than his vehicle.
    "Who arre ye, lass? We were no tol' tae expect a new replacement." She knew that accent. He was from Iona, a tiny asteroid that had made the Delta Pav Jump. Everyone else considered the Ionan brogue to be hilarious and many fights resulted. His bushy beard and hair were red, and framed his face like an archaic baby bonnet. His clothing consisted of boots and a ragged pair of shorts. There was nothing comical about his belt, though. It sported a large pistol and a larger machete.
    "From what I hear," she said, her temper already frayed, "nobody tells your outfit much of anything."
    "Och, and is that no the truth! I hope this load has yerr rations, for we've little to spare ye."
    She sighed. "Well, I guess it's not your fault I was sentenced to Devil's Island. I'm Dierdre Jamail, from Deryabar, by way of Avalon and the Academy."
    He accepted her hand. "I'm from Iona, as you'll no doubt have discerned. Ma name's Bela Szini."
    "Really? I was expecting something more . . . well, more Celtic."
    He grinned, revealing a gap between his front teeth. "Yerr own accent's no terribly Lebanese."
    She laughed for the first time since touching down on planet. "I'm told my ancestors came from darkest San Antonio before they got sense and left Earth."
    "Let's throw yerr things onta the donkey, then ye can help me wi' these crates."
    Five minutes of relatively mild labor had her gasping. "Is it always like this?"
    "It gets much worse. Ye'll acclimatize, though. You never get really used to it, but in a few days it'll no' bother ye so much. Climb on in and we'll be awa'."
    With some trepidation, she climbed into the rider's seat. Bela stepped on a pedal and the donkey whirled in a circle and headed back toward the path. She had to grab the seat to keep from being thrown out and made a note to watch out for these centrifugal effects. Once they were going, she found that the ride wasn't us upsetting as that in the scoutcraft. In fact, it was rather exhilarating, and the artificial wind it created was refreshing. She also discovered that the cord dangling from her hat was to be tied beneath the chin, and that it was necessary. After it blew off and they had to stop to retrieve it, Bela showed her how the cord worked.
    A few minutes' drive brought them to the seashore, a spectacle that took her breath away. So much water was simply unbelievable, even though it smelled as bad as the jungle. That was followed within minutes by another unprecedented sight: her first sunrise. Once again, a lifetime of holos had not prepared her for the splendor of the scene.
    "It's fabulous!" she yelled. "Does it happen like this every day?"
    "Aye. And almost as pretty when it sets. By then ye'll be happy to see it go."
    She sat back down from her half-standing position. "Have I really been condemned to the lowest circle?"
    He held out a hand, palm downward. It was a spacer equivalent of a shrug. "Ye're lucky to be awa' from they Survey loons. Here we've the best folk on this benighted planet. O' course," he amended, "ye'll find they're not all as easy to get along with as meself." He thought for a moment. "We run, you may say, to strong personalities."
    Another ten minutes brought them to a huddle of flimsy-looking structures built on the shore. They were partly of the ubiquitous foam, partly of what looked like local materials. There were a few people walking about dozily, blinking and rubbing their eyes. Most were as casually dressed as Bela, except for those who had not bothered to dress at all. It was obvious that uniform standards were a bit slack at this outpost.
    They wheeled to a stop in front of a shack built mainly from what appeared to be the bones of an enormous animal. It was roofed with vegetable matter, probably gigantic leaves,