Free A Long Time Until Now by Michael Z. Williamson Page B

sun.
    “The sun god would not approve, sir. As your Holy Man, I must advise against this. Corporal Dalton, you come advise us also, and both women.”
    Alexander joined the huddle, then the younger two. Alexander asked, “What exactly are we doing?”
    Spencer said, “Faking a religion so we don’t upset our own people, and using it to justify refusing hospitality. Let’s hope it works.”
    “Please,” Elliott said. “I’d rather not get involved with the locals.” He didn’t want to be party to some treaty sealed with sex. Or any contact if he could avoid it.
    Dalton said, “Yeah, you’d want her bathed before being brought to your hovel. And shaved.” He smiled slightly at the joke.
    Caswell rolled her eyes and muttered.
    “So what’s your plan?”
    Still waving his hands flamboyantly, he said, “Well, the two senior couples and your Holy Man advise against carnal contact. Now we need to explain it to them. Let’s see if I can do this.”
    Spencer turned to face the chief, and started pointing.
    “His most Excellency the sun, lord of all lemurs says we must not engage with females. They are most attractive, and you are most magnanimous a host to extend such hospitality. But now I must step back and make distance. I will pour a measure of aqua into my hand and drink, and I will offer you the same.”
    That was utterly bizarre, but the chief was distracted by the splash of water from the Camelbak straw into Spencer’s hand, and extended his own hand when offered. He licked at the water, then drank off his hand and grinned broadly.
    “Ak!a arluee.”
    Spencer stepped back another step, faced the sun, bowed his head and opened his hands. He then crossed them on his shoulders and stepped back.
    The chief seemed confused, and went into a huddle with his own advisers. There was some back and forth, and obvious agitation that didn’t seem angry. The shrugs were universal.
    The women seemed a bit miffed at being rejected. They apparently liked the idea of exotic strangers for bed.
    Another woman, a girl, a young man and a teen boy brought over food. The woman had a twig basket of berries with some dried plant pods. The man had most of a smoked kid. The teen had two roasted rabbits, and the girl had a leather skin that held nuts and a pile of what appeared to be fried grubs.
    Elliott asked, “Spencer, what do we do?”
    “To be polite, try the grubs and decline with a bow or something. We eat the rest. If you want to avoid them entirely, I’ll make another petition to the Sun Lemur.”
    “Yeah, I guess I’m the officer.” He reached in and grabbed a couple of the crunchier looking grubs. Making sure his Camelbak straw was ready, he tossed them into his mouth and chewed.
    They weren’t the worst thing he’d ever tasted. Actually, he could probably eat them if he had to.
    He took a swig of water and swished it while bowing, then reached for an apple. It didn’t seem to have any resident pests, but it wasn’t in great shape, having been pecked and chewed. He found a side that looked reasonably clear, and bit into it.
    “Mmm. Nom.” He smiled and nodded slightly. That was understood to be affirmative.
    Behind him he heard, “Hey, sir . . .”
    He turned to see Devereaux flanked by a bevy of women, and Barker looking frazzled. They had hold of Devereaux’s hands and were examining his burnt-coffee skin. Barker obviously wasn’t going to hit them, and didn’t really have any other options, so he just stayed close to his buddy.
    Spencer high-stepped over, hands on shoulders, and made another pronouncement to the Sun Lemur. More splashes of water went around to the Paleo women and to Devereaux.
    The Paleos were persuaded that the soldiers were not going to be available for whatever trade rituals they had in mind.
    “Can you explain to me, Sergeant Spencer?” he asked.
    “I think Caswell has the info on that.”
    He turned to her, and she said, “Sir, it’s common to be exogamous. They’re a small