Free The Basingstoke Chronicles by Robert Appleton Page A

Yet, this phenomenon did not
extend beyond the banks of the river. Given that the night had not been cold, I must admit to
being bamboozled. One thought did occur to me, though--a connection between this waterway
and the underground cave we had experienced earlier. Unnatural as their temperatures were, I
was intrigued by the common factor of water.
    Puma Pawq'ar overtook us, to join Pacal Votan at the head of this strange procession.
The two appeared at odds as they spoke privately, Puma gesticulating like a riled octopus. Pacal
Votan was content to shrug in response, once or twice even disagreeing. But Puma Pawq'ar, so
quiet the night before, was clearly the dominant fellow. This assumption was proved beyond
doubt when Pacal Votan finally waved his open palm across his chest and gave the slightest of
bows.
    "We happened on the right pair, didn't we?" I whispered to Rodrigo.
    "I'll say. I can't quite figure out the hierarchy yet, but these two seem to be big chalk and
big cheese. What do you reckon, Baz?"
    I laughed. "I think you're well on your way to becoming big cajone ."
    "Why thank you, Baz. I can see you're going to learn your place in no
time."
    The Apteronians waited for us in their hundreds against either side of the only open
entrance in the giant wooden palisade. Many of the men were over six feet six, while the women
tended to be somewhat shorter. They observed us with a mixture of awe and suspicion, many
parents shielding their infants. One toddler, I remember, wailed the entire time, no doubt after
hearing some cock 'n bull story about the bear and us foreign devils. I don't know about a hornet's
nest, but there was a definite ambivalence written on those smooth, native faces.
    Entering the village should have been daunting, yet somehow that was not the case. The
whole chain of events thus far: the appearance of Darkly, the friendliness of Pacal Votan, the ease
with which Rodrigo had been accepted into the village, the fact of our still being alive--seemed,
more and more, to be the work of Providence.
    The bear darted ahead to a wooden trough filled with raw fish, before returning with a
mouthful. I rolled my eyes and glanced over to our two Apteronian friends. To my relief, they
both smiled.
    "Wanaku," said Puma Pawq'ar, which tickled his companion.
    "What's that?" I asked Rodrigo.
    He blinked a few times. "Um, some kind of woolly animal, I think."
    "Indeed."
    Dust and dry grass lent an impression of poverty to the village. Three unobstructed lanes
led directly from the three points of perimeter access to the village center. Small homes,
reminiscent of early Spanish villas, lay haphazardly about. All were built with limestone and
painted in the same marine color. It was as though an ancient seaside resort had been pushed
inland.
    The architecture of these buildings incorporated severe angles and ornate, miniature
pillars to support verandas. At the back of each was a spacious plot for growing organic food.
Some were regular garden plots, with rows of colorful vegetables at various stages of ripening;
others were more akin to orchards, jam-packed with all kinds of beautiful, fruit-bearing trees. My
first impulse told me that only a hive-minded, and indeed high-minded society could seek to pool
their materials from so many peripheral holdings.
    Pacal Votan led us into the large, elliptical centre of the village. It was a paved area as
big as a football pitch, around which seemed to lie the vital mechanics, the hub, of this
civilization. Facing the ellipse, porches and verandas held the means to prepare and supply every
kind of resource imaginable: rigs for blacksmiths and stonemasons, looms for weaving, pots for
preparing chemical dyes or mixing beverages, benches for carpentry and sculpting, and of course,
various culinary set ups and displays. There was even a wooden rack filled with rolled-up,
labeled scrolls--evidently a library of some kind.
    Although I was wont to wander around for a while, Pacal Votan