“So you can go to your home world.”
I shrug. We both know that. “The Borok tribe allow warriors from other tribes.”
He raises his eyebrows. “They allow outtribers? Not just women?”
I’m actually not completely sure about that. I didn’t listen too closely when Cora told us about her tribe, because I knew I’d never see it. “I think so. And Foundlings.”
He looks toward the jungle. “It must be an unusual tribe indeed if they allow outcasts from other tribes to join. Are they notworried about fights breaking out between men of different stripes?”
“I don’t think so. Chief Korr’ax is very powerful, they say. Chief of two tribes.”
I look down as Aker’iz has crawled her way over to me and is nudging my calf with her head. I have a strong impulse to pick her up and put her on my lap. But Kenz’ox is watching, and I don’t want him to get any weird ideas about my role here. I move my leg away from her and continue with my work.
“Don’t bother Dorie,” Kenz’ox admonishes. “She’s busy working.”
The baby whimpers and babbles plaintively as she touches my shin with one chubby hand, so I stand up, step out of her reach, and wrap the pieces of meat in big, fresh leaves. It’s the best way I know of to preserve it in our underground food store. We haven’t found any place in the saucer suitable for storing food. We think the Plood aliens that flew it got all their nourishment from the thin, soup-like slop that is produced by one of the consoles.
“Lots of meat,” I comment. “Food for many days.”
“Maybe three days,” Kenz’ox says as he picks up Aker’iz. A ray from the afternoon sun strikes his forearm and sets off the massive muscles and scars, contrasting with the baby’s smooth chubbiness. “We will eat more of the skarn meat than we think. Not much fat on it.”
I carefully place the meat packs in the food storage. It’s maybe a quarter full, mostly with various stuff that Cora and Sprisk left, including meat with a hard outer layer. Apparently, you can hang meat to dry, and that helps preserve it. Cora didn’t give usany details about it, and I think it was Sprisk who knew how that works.
Kenz’ox comes over and looks down. “A tribe’s food storage should be full at all times. Hunts may fail for many days in a row. We’ll have to throw out most of the skarn meat when it goes sour.”
When he’s this close, he towers over me, all power and confidence.
I have to suppress an urge to touch him. “Hard to keep meat for long. After a while, not good anymore.”
“It rots,” he agrees. “But there are ways to make it last.”
I close the lid on the storage hole. “Hang to dry. Must build a hut for it.”
“Or use a hut we already have.” He nods toward the saucer. “Nice and dry in there.”
Something in me rebels. Now he wants to use my flying saucer for his caveman purposes. “I’m trying to repair it. Don’t want to hang meat in.”
“I won’t need to go hunting every three days,” he calmly points out, “if we could dry some of the meat from every hunt. None of the meat would rot before we can use it. After a few moons, the food stores would be full.”
“No,” I reply, matching his calm tone, although my stomach is tying itself in a knot. “We will not hang meat in the ship. I’m repairing it.”
I can hear how feeble it sounds. But that is my saucer.
“Hmm.” He turns around and grabs the still-crawling Aker’iz, lifting her and playing with her.
“We can build other hut for drying meat,” I suggest as a compromise. “One that’s dry, too.”
“We?” Kenz’ox asks, not looking at me. “Do you know how to build a hut for drying meat? Do you have the tools?”
“I can build it,” I state defiantly, not being sure at all. I’ve never built a hut, and a hut for drying meat seems like it would need a special design. “I have what I need.”
He gives me a little smile. “We’ll build the hut together. It will be faster. And my sword can cut trees easier than your spear.”
I nod, relieved. “All right. We build together. Aker’iz is chief of the hut building. Where we build?”
Kenz’ox walks across the clearing with the baby in his arms. “How aboutthisspot, Chief Aker’iz?”
She coos.
