"Well, looks like I've made two converts to the Pam Miller Tree Hugging Society. A good start indeed." After taking a quick look around to make sure the dodos weren't close by, she reached into her pocket to pull out the shaved coconut, dried fruit and nut gorp trail mix she had brought along and carefully unwrapped its banana leaf container so as not to spill it.
"Here, help yourselves!" she invited her companions, lifting her open hand up in offering. Pers and Gerbald both took a step forward but then stopped, eyes wide. Even though neither of them were anywhere near her palm she felt a pressure there and heard what could only be a chewing sound. Shifting her eyes to her hand she was stunned to see a very strange face; a wide beak of a nose shaped like a rounded ship's prow with two holes for nostrils beneath which a wide, lip-less mouth was chewing gorp. Dark, liquid eyes regarded her calmly from behind droopy lids set in thick, scaly gray skin. This startling visage was at the end of a very long neck that snaked down into a horn-like saddle.
To her credit Pam didn't panic, successfully conquering her first instinct to flee screaming. If she had been in any real danger Gerbald would have taken care of it by now anyway with his warrior's reflexes, long before she could react. The creature was obviously harmless.
"What is it?" Pers asked in a hushed tone.
"It must be a dinosaur!" Gerbald answered, laughing with delight.
Pam felt the large "rock" beneath her shift slightly as the long-necked creature took another gentle mouthful of trail mix. Looking down she could see that she sat on the smooth, green-gray plates of its wide shell.
"Gentlemen," she announced with some bravado, "meet the giant Mascarene tortoise. I remember reading about them and wondering why they weren't as well known as the Galapagos version. The answer was, of course, that they had become extinct along with the dodo, but the dodo got the starring role in the tragedy."
"The dodo is a most engaging creature," Gerbald said. "But this fellow has personality as well. I am a hunter by nature but I confess I wouldn't be able to kill such a soulful-eyed beast unless I was in great need of food."
"Yeah, he's pretty cute, huh?" Pam carefully slid off her living seat to kneel beside the placid creature, offering it more gorp which it took daintily from her palm with a wide, blueish-hued tongue. "Unfortunately a lot of hungry people who aren't as kind as you will end up here in the years to come, unless we get in control of things first." Pam gently stroked the tortoise's shell. "This must be the saddle-backed version. They were . . . or, I'm pleased to say . . . are inhabitants of the forests, adapted to stretch their necks up in search of leaves and fruit. There's another closely-related type with a shorter neck and rounder shell that live in the grasslands." Pam gave the tortoise the last of her gorp as she rubbed it gently on its scaly skull, which it seemed to like. Its heavy-lidded eyes half closed in delight.
After a long minute of deep thought, Pam stood up and looked at her friends. Her face was pale in the arboreal shadows and filled with cares.
"Ya know, guys, sometimes it just seems like too much. This island is so complex, we are barely scratching the surface of understanding how these ecologies work and now we are introducing human settlers even earlier than they came here in my other history. I hope I've made the right decisions. I hope I can make all this work. It's really a lot on my plate. Sometimes I just feel overwhelmed." Her shoulders were slumped and she looked at the tortoise with a helpless expression.
"Pam, you must not forget that we are with you in this. You do not face these burdens alone," Gerbald told her. "Can you not see that myself and Dore, this fine lad Pers, the bosun, and all the men of the Redbird support you? You carry too much on your shoulders. We lend you our strength. Please, take it."
Pam took a deep breath before speaking in a low, but controlled tone. "I know you do. I'm stupid for forgetting it. It's just that sometimes I get scared by my new life here. If you had seen me back up-time in Grantville you wouldn't have recognized me. I was a failure as a wife, as a mother . . . it seemed like no matter how hard I tried nothing worked. The only thing I ever got right was science, so I got some education and went to work, and that helped, but now I'm not a lab tech. I'm the lead scientist. I'm the one who has to make the big decisions and it's freaking me out! I feel like I hold the lives of all these living creatures, the lives of all these people who came here with me, in my hands. And so far I've sucked at it." She had started calmly but by the end of her words her voice was freighted with emotion.
Pers had a good grasp of up-time American English vernacular, thanks more to Gerbald's wise-cracks than Pam's lessons and knew what "sucked"' meant.
"Pam, you do not suck. I can assure you none of we Swedes think that. We admire you. We think of you as the brave lady, our wise woman, a warrior! You must not think of yourself in such a bad way, please. Listen to Herr Gerbald! We will all help you succeed!" There was no mistaking the deep concern and sincerity in Pers' young voice.
Pam visibly pulled herself together, rubbing her flushed face and clearing flyaway locks from her brow. She nodded, favored them each with a tiny but sweet smile, gave the giant tortoise a final pat on the head, then turned and started walking. Pers and Gerbald watched her go, giving her the time and space she had silently asked them for. After a minute Gerbald clapped a still worried Pers companionably on the back. "Well done, my boy."
Pers stood tall, feeling as if he had just been knighted.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Farewells and Beginnings
Pam's mood improved as they left the gloom of the forest behind and began the ascent into higher country. The sun was still bright but there was a cool breeze dancing across the rocks and shrubs that made the afternoon light bearable. Gerbald and Pers picked their own paths nearby. They traveled in a silence that would be up to her to break, but not just yet. She paused, looking back to see that the dodos had stopped at the edge of the forest. Apparently the open hillsides were not to their liking or maybe the long walk had tuckered out their stocky legs.
This was good-bye to the flock that Pam had gotten to know so well. They would return by a different path so the birds wouldn't follow them back to the perils of the beach. She took a long, last look, a kind of mental photograph she was sure she would never forget. In her heart she had a comforting feeling that it wouldn't really be the last time she would see these birds. Satisfied, Pam gave the dodos a smile and a farewell wave then turned away to continue her climb up the gentle slopes of Coffee Mountain. A mile or so later she looked back once more and the dodos were gone, returned to their former life hunting for nuts and grubs amongst the great trees of this innocent island paradise. Pam envied them.
Upon reaching the top, Pam opened the picnic lunch she and Dore had concocted, which included a small flask of rum to celebrate with.
"Come and get it, fellas!" she called as she lay the offerings out on a broad, flat boulder conveniently placed near the summit. They would enjoy their meal with a fabulous view. Somehow Dore had managed to bake a simple bread in her stone oven. They filled each loaf with crab meat, thinly sliced Barbel palm hearts, bamboo shoots, and a generous helping of spices and melted butter from Dore's larder. The results were delicious and Pers liked his so much that Pam gave him half of hers. The portions were more generous than she could handle anyway.