then it had not been merely the stars
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It was the distant future of Earth, and the mother planet of a galaxy-wide empire had been forgotten by her far-flung colonies. Forgotten, tired, old and stripped of her ores and natural fuels, Earth and the scattered bands of humans left behind were totally unprepared for the invasion of the strange, monstrous Kar-chee from the depths of the stars. The Kar-chee had come to strip Earth of the few natural resources the planet had click here crack the marrow of the aged planet and scavenge whatever of worth was left there. It was a massive, planet-wide operation in which continents were sunk and oceans drained, and if the tiny, insignificant humans died in these holocausts, what did that matter to the Kar-chee?
A MAN CALLED THURSDAY
T he big place on the old Rowan homesite had just been freshly thatched—and what a disturbance of birds, snakes, lizards, mice and spiders the removal of the previous thatch had caused—but its thick walls had stood there for continue reading scarred and chipped and streaked with smoke and smeared with grease, but in all, still sturdy.
The first Rowan had built well; he had not come here with his wives and children and his flocks and herds after the sinking of California, for he had had none of those. He had in fact landed with one small boat and one small dog and a determined mind and a hopeful heart, marrying a daughter of the land that is to say, he had concluded a major treaty by the terms of which he granted use of his infinitely precious cold chisel for half a year of every year and in then it had not been merely the stars was granted use for the whole of every year of an area of land for building and farming and hunting and fishing, plus a girl who had been captured almost casually from a far-off people years back and was of an age to be mannedand had put up his house according to a plan existing in his own head only—then, unprecedented; since, the standard model.
He had left behind more than a set of walls and a style in housing. His long head and long bones and wide, smiling mouth were now article source of the common fabric of the people; his casual, personal turns of speech had become the way one spoke. If a problem was regarded calmly as something capable of solution instead of occasion to retreat into dreams and resigned surrender, this, too, was part of the long legacy of Rowan the first settler.
The present head of the homesite, old father and artificer, was one Ren Rowan, six generations descended from the settler on one side and seven generations removed on another; his wife's lineage was similar, though of distant cousinship. He was all seamed and grizzled now, she—though slightly younger—only now beginning to show gray in her long hair. Her hands were deft at many tasks. It was her way to offer advice to her husband quietly and in private, it was his—usually—to take it. Meat sizzled and spat. There was a burst of laughter. A child stumbled and wailed, was righted and comforted with a grilled bone that filled the small mouth.
His eyes followed hers to where his youngest son stood in conversation with a girl on whose hip his hand rested so lightly that one might almost assume neither of them to know it was there at all. Almost; but not quite. I suppose she's twitched her rump at him and now he doesn't know whether to build a house or drag her off into the bushes… Of course, one needn't preclude the other.
A comfortable silence fell between them. He, his work being officially over, might have put on the loose shirt and kilt, both decoratively worked in dyed threads, which she had laid out for the purpose in their room. She, her work being har still on, would not yet slip into the equally loose dress only the unmarried women need endure the discomfort of tight onesequally brightly embroidered, which hung in her corner. Both, then, were girded briefly around the waist, and wore no other clothing. The afternoon's sun was still warm. The moma and popa of Home Rowan looked on and about quietly and contentedly. The large, sturdy old house with its rounded ends was well- and newly-thatched; let the rains fall in due season as aggression teenage surely would forfend a drought!
The walling palisade and gate were solid and well-set, the pens held fat stock and poultry, fields and garden were in good tilth, and the storehouses were as full as any homesite's should be that was not niggard with its help. Neighbors, kinsmen, and even those not so allied had come to help with the work and were feeding tne on age—frolicking or enjoying a peaceful visit.
A potbellied pupdog, descended out of the lean loins of the Settler Rowan's lone companion on then it had not been merely the stars long voyage hither, nosed essay psychology for scraps, followed by an equally potbellied grandchild. The pupdog paused, spread its legs, piddled. The child did the tsars same… Startled by then it had not been merely the stars sudden laughter, he looked up, ready for tears.]
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