Tuning William - Fuzzy Bones

Brannhard grinned, showing white teeth through his gray-brown beard. "Why, you old snoop," he said.

"I was not snooping!" Rainsford declared. "I just happened to see it. That's all."

The midnight to 0400 shift had just gone on guard at the tunnel mouth as Helton left the cavern after thoroughly taping its contents. The tape would stay on his person until he had transmitted it to Commodore Napier-then it would be erased.

"Remember, guys," Helton said to the two Marines, "nobody goes in there except

Commissioner Holloway or myself. Got that clear?"

They nodded. "Right, Gunnie," one of them said.

As soon as Helton was out of sight, one of the sentries whispered to his buddy. "Jim?"

"Whattaya want, Ev?" the other one said.

"Why would they leave the lights on in there?" Everett Diehl asked.

"How do you know the lights are on?" Jim Spelvin said. "There's a tarp over the far end of the tunnel."

Diehl smirked. "I sneaked a peek when the Gunnie came out. He had his back to me while he pulled the tarp-and he left the lights on."

"Aw, don't worry about it," Spelvin said.

"Well, it seems damned funny; that's all," Diehl said.

"Maybe he's drying fruit in there!" Spelvin said exasperatedly. "How should I know why he left the lights on? Bad enough we should get the mid-watch. We 're the rankers in the guard mount. How come the privates draw the easy hours?"

"Akor said he wanted NCOs on the mid-watch," Diehl said.

"Malarkey!" Spelvin said. "He put us on the mid-watch because he doesn't like us. He never has liked us. We're the rankers and he gives us the dirty jobs."

Perhaps a half-hour passed with neither of them saying anything.

"Jim?"

Spelvin started. "Now whattaya want? Do you know how hard it is to sleep standing up?"

"I'm going in and take a look," Diehl said.

"That's crazy," Spelvin said. "Why bother? We won't have to turn this drill again. I heard they're going to set a security hatch in the tunnel tomorrow morning."

' "That's what I mean," Diehl said. "If we don't look now, we'll never get another chance."

Spelvin was silent for a moment. "What if we get caught?"

"Aw, there won't be anybody around to check on us for at least another hour,"

Diehl said. "Besides, if you see anybody coming, you can throw a pebble down the tunnel. I can beat it back out here before they're close enough to see I'm gone."

Spelvin was thinking, a feat which required every ounce of his attention.

Presently, he said, "Okay. You go first, but then I get to go look, too."

"That's fair," Diehl said.

Only a few meters inside the tunnel, there was no light at all. Diehl turned around and looked back the way he had come, as though reassuring himself that

the tunnel mouth was still there. Then he proceeded slowly, with his arms outstretched to the sides to keep himself in the middle of the tunnel.

Periodically, he would sweep one hand in front of himself, but soon he began to see a dim corona of light seeping around the edges of the tarp.

He took a deep breath, then slipped between the tarp and the rocks at the lip of the tunnel entrance.

Corporal Dieh's mouth fell open. He tried to voice some profane expression of astonishment, but discovered that he couldn't make a sound. He blinked in the comparatively bright light. He staggered forward to the center of the cavern.

His rifle sling slipped off his shoulder and the weapon fell to the cave floor, but he didn't notice. He stopped and turned around and around, looking at the polychromatic glow above him.

Finally, he realized that he couldn't remember how long he had been there, except that he felt slightly dizzy. He took out his pocketknife and went over to one of the sidewalls, intent on prying loose a couple of sunstones to take with him.

He didn't notice the bloodstains on the wall, but was happy to put away his knife when he saw a handful of sunstones scattered loose on the floor. He scooped up a half dozen or so, retrieved his rifle, and hurried back the way he had come.

"Jeez!" hissed Spelvin. "What took you so long? I was beginning to get worried."

"G-g-go see for yourself," Diehl stammered. He still couldn't talk straight.

If Mr. Justice Pendarvis was harried by the chaos that reigned in both the legal system and the proceedings of the Constitutional Convention, he showed no outward signs of it.

The Chairman, a chubby Ph.D. with a beard, had called the convention to order at 1000 hours, and announced that he had requested Judge Pendarvis to make a few remarks of an advisory nature. The delegates immediately began to whisper and mutter comments between themselves,

A hush fell over the convention as Pendarvis walked across the platform. He was tall, slender, and walked with a slow and measured step. It was rumored that he could turn an attorney to stone with a single baleful gaze.

"Esteemed delegates," he began.' "It is with both pleasure and humility that I have accepted Dr. Pine's invitation to address this convention. I have devoted most of my life to the law, and so it comes about that my sincerest hope in this situation is to be of help to this body in framing and adopting a constitution for the planet of Zarathustra." He paused, looking over the delegates, and was pleased to notice that he had them hanging on his every word. It had been a couple of decades since he had pleaded a case. It was satisfying to see that he had not lost his touch. "It is with interest that I have noted your proceedings, ladies and gentlemen. While it is not without weight that there are a multitude of issues to be settled before such a document can be properly drawn, it is, I'm sure you must agree, also true that many of these issues are somewhat extraneous to the task at hand. This in no way diminishes their importance; it just makes for tough going. As some of you must know," he continued, "the court dockets are bulging. However, I will entertain some suits in equity, affidavits, and veridicated depositions designed to clarify those issues that do not directly bear on adopting a constitution and set aside matters that are clouding the points of law which

this Constitution must soon decide. The law is the rock upon which any government must be built. Such has been the case for as long as I have been on Zarathustra, and so long as I am alive, it will continue to be the case. "Now, then, who has some questions for me?"

At mid-morning in Fuzzy Valley, Sergeant Beltran heard a familiar voice at the back hatch of his kitchen scow.

"What make do?" Little Fuzzy asked.

"Yeh, Sahdge," Starwatcher echoed. "What make do?"

The Upland Fuzzies had picked up the ability to speak within Terran hearing range in record time. They had caught on to the habit of mid-morning coffee-break even more quickly-except that for them it was estee-fee break.

"Hi, kids," Beltran said, chewing on his eternal cigar.

"You like estee-fee?"

Loud noises of approval from Little Fuzzy, Starwatcher, and the four Upland Fuzzies who accompanied them. It had become a ritual between them, much like the Terran habit of shaking hands in greeting.

Beltran pulled one of the blue-labeled tins off the stowage shelf and blew the dust off of it. The supply of Extee-Three was beginning to run a bit low. Have to do something about that. He'd never be able to convince ration supply that someone was actually eating the stuff. Well, a little trading around could get that straightened out. That's how NCOs make a living, isn't it-trading stuff around among themselves?

After the Fuzzies had finished off their treat, they made solemn introductions between Beltran and the four new Fuzzies, with Beltran squatting on his haunches and seriously shaking each one's tiny hand in turn.

The Fuzzies crowded around him. "What make do, Unka Vida'?"