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30. THE SNOWY WHITE ROAD; South To Costaramannh!
Hika = Mr.
Commannh = Police.
Havar ass Coban Sahm arrale. = Bring the Music Man home.
Paronde cos ravonnde. = Family will prevail.

Commannh are out in force, this day of the departure of our transport convoy. Coming out of my... house... to go to Eenunh's I see them in the hall, idling at the far end to the right, two more just standing at intervals to my left. Many neighbors are in the hall, going to ramps. I can't tell if they're going up or down. I wonder. Some call out, call me by name, my first name, or Hika Andrews. I go into Eenunh's.

They are kneeling on the floor, pack-bags at hand, look up as I come in. Eenunh brought my pack-bag and sleeping bag with her when... she left my house last night. Everything we'd packed in it last night is here on the floor, everything laid out, another check to see.

There are many voices in the corridor as we pack. It's... unusual. Folks are generally quiet in the hall.

I tell Eenunh, "I want my corn knife. I don't want to go without that... weapon." Her eyes are stern. She studies me. I don't think I need anything more to be said. I await her decision.

Tinunh says, "I want my corn knife!" She awaits Eenunh's decision. Without looking at Tinunh I offer my right hand for a high five, get it, a swiping slap from Tinunh's right hand. She giggles!I put my left arm around Tinunh's waist, and we stare at Eenunh, awaiting the decision. Eenunh makes it. She points at us, says,

"You two!"

We pack our corn knives, our two greenie knives. I, again, bring a hammer and pliers, contingency tools. They leave theirs.

"Better to have them and not need them than need them and not have them," I tell the girls. They repeat it word for word, laughing as they do and boisterously when they finish! I get some kisses from Eenunh! Tinunh teases, "Stop it!" Eenunh playfully scolds,

"Only I can tell Gary to stop it!" Tinunh throws up her hands in playful surrender! I laugh! They push each other, laugh, Tinunh gives another surrender, and they turn back to packing.

Tinunh says, "Sometimes even you can't tell Gary to stop it!" They laugh. I'm embarrassed! LOL

We pack our leathers. Our gloves, with knit inserts for winter insulation. I bought those for all of us at the flea market! They loved them the first time we went out in this cold weather! I got hugs and kisses that day! They were a bit tight on Eenunh, so she bought larger leather gloves. Tinunh's fit well. She was able to flex her fingers to her satisfaction.

We wear undergarments, and them a dark green cloth pants suit, one piece, over their regular underwear. They don canvas workshirts and pants. I wear jeans over my underwear, a pullover shirt, and canvas workclothes. Workboots. I pack my dress shoes, and blue suit, as directed by Soda. They pack their knit dresses, several regular commonwear dresses, inspecting for wear, rejecting only one of Tinuh's, two of Eenunh's.

They wear workboots, and pack their other shoes, which are only a little less of a workboot, the common Emoilihn shoestyle. All our socks, all our other underwear. We're... apparently... going to be gone a few days. Canteens, filled. Some gray paper packages, food I assume.

"We're taking more things with us than we're leaving at home!" I comment. They seem to ponder that assessment, ultimately agreeing. "What about towels, washcloths, soap, toilet leaves. Eenunh looks surprised, says,

"Neh! Neh! We must be prepared! We don't know how we will be accommodated in Costaramannh! They're supposed to have made arrangements, but they could easily leave us out in the cold, unwashed, unfed. Hell!" she says, a word I've often used to open a sentence, "They could betray us altogether. They don't need us! We're... a... a side deal now." She and Tinunh look long at each other.

She jumps to her feet, bends over and, with her head upside down, I get kisses! I'll take an upside down kiss any time! LOL

We seem to be ready. We don winter coats, carry lighter jackets, knit hats, toboggan style, with short bills on them. Eenunh puts my sunglasses in my inside coat pocket. More stuff than we're leaving at home. Home.

I wonder, aloud, "Should we take all our coins?" Her face brightens!

Eenunh ponders, a moment, says, "They would be a liquid asset that may be easy to spend in the city. Yes!"

"Does everyone have their maps?" Eenunh asks. Tinunh and I pat our chest pockets. High five!

I get more kisses. Me and my good ideas! I go out, back to my house, put the canvas bag I store my coins in... I have a bunch, into my pack-bag. I come out, back into Eenunh's. We're ready!


Out in the hall, struggling like pack mules, we are greeted by a universal shout, up and down the hall! The girls wave, call out to close neighbors. The commannh teams are in their places, idling. As we head for the ramp they begin coming our way. The people get out of their way. Some of the neighbors seem to have been waiting too and come now, a growing crowd behind the commannh. Everyone is quiet as we go down the ramp, down the ramp, into the central chamber, where commannh teams are abundant at the other ramp entrances. Lots of people! Heading for the pub. The commannh shut down traffic, give us the... the right-of-way.

The pub is packed. Commannh teams are present, more than one. There is a murmur, suppressed conversation, then... a single shout, and all voices shout! The crowd gets to its feet! People pull back, open a pathway to the spindle-door. The blue-boys are there, swing the spindle-door open. Cold air rushes in, cold in our faces! I see a light snow falling in bright sunlight, snowflakes floating, more than falling. It's overcast, gray, white out to the west in the desert!

Snow has come and lain on the ground for many days now, the white desert looking pristine, windswept, drifts, a crystalline icyness the Sunstar paints some days when the overcast parts, melts some, refreezes. No one ventures out on the desert floor on foot, most days, except children who play nearby, under the watchful eye of parents, and commannh patrols.

But... there's a huge crowd out on the patio today! They turn toward the noise of the crowd coming out behind us, raise their own voices! A cacophonous shout goes up! Voices blend, low pitch, high pitch, a vibrato low to shrill and back again! I get a spinal chill. The crowd parts like Moses at the Red Sea! Eenunh leads us in.

Looking over the crowd's heads I see three water-trucks are parked side by side on the patio, angled, facing where I know a wide ramp goes down into the desert. The girls and I have come up that ramp several times during the dry season, after wandering, hunting, gathering in the desert. It's seventy yards away and the crowd fills the entire space. I didn't know there were this many people in Entemannh Garibe!

We reach the far edge of the crowd and come out across an imaginary line established by the commannh. Thimiannh is off to our left, coming, points toward the trucks. Eenunh leads us there, the center truck. We set our bags in on the floor. Tinunh climbs in, begins setting her bag and gear on the racks. I see the bins are gone from the racks, except the bottom row. There are two canvas... benches with x'ed wooden legs, one on each side. Tinunh struggles to reach over the benches to set our pack-bags up there as we hand them in. There are green canvas bags on the racks. What I take to be Thin Man and Soda's personal luggage is on the racks. Eenunh and I look at each other, turn back toward the crowd and stand there, observing.

Thin Man's militia... he's obviously in charge... dressed in a military uniform... dark green... is twelve people, men and women. I can't count the ratio from here. They're moving about, mixing with an equal number of commanh in blue uniforms. It looks formal but friendly, men, women.

I recognize the two men who came to my first show... my audition... with Thimiannh, at the restaurant. Those two are in charge of five 'men' each. Men and women, the women taller, but some short ones too, younger I speculate. I can see them fall into line at their command, two lines, at the back of another truck the commannh seem so concerned with, in force, back close to the large spindle-door that opens onto the corridor with the big round windows. Yes, it is three women in each squad, two men and their male commander, six. A dozen.

Out of that water-truck, I guess... they're... just trucks now... turned back toward the cliff face... there on the patio outside the corridor, the one Eenunh and I walked down from the prison, when her lanyard as an official... an interpreter... gave her authority to walk there, the commannh are issuing rifles!

Each... soldier takes one, straps it across his or her chest.

A cold wind picks up! I pull Eenunh in to stand between the open doors. Tinunh stands up in the truck, her hands on the overhead sill. I'm tired already. I didn't sleep soundly, pondering what today would bring.

People coming from the other side of the patio, around the mountain, are filing past the front of that truck, the commannh gesturing for them to do so, pointing to where the crowd is, watching them carefully, as if they fear... and I think they do... the presence of the weapons, projectile weapons of some kind, they are issuing each of Thimiannh's men. They strap them across their chests. Ammo boxes... those... have to be ammo boxes. Each man and woman is taking two, one in each hand, struggling with the weight I believe, and coming to the two trucks on each side of ours in the middle. They go back for two more! Good. Ain't nothin' worse than an empty gun when the [naughty word removed] gets pretty! Oh! Two more, each. Splendid! Six cans per soldier.

I look at the noisy crowd. Blueboys, Greenboys, Brownboys, and girls, the children of the poor, are the crowd. There aren't any children. Some young women, young men, but none Tinunh's age. I see some poorly dressed, shivering in the cold. More well-to-do people, by their clothing, are far fewer, but there. Voices are low, in volume, but constant. What a crowd! The grapevine must have spread the word that we were going. We seem to have popular support. I wonder what they know about our business! I wonder if Soda can explain it.

The commannh seem to have a suppressing effect as they patrol the edge of the crowd. My sense of a militarized society is increased. The commannh are Citizens, just like the rest of... I start to say 'us', but... I am not yet a Citizen. But the commannh are also obedient to the power structures. I have a sense that, should anyone make any move of physical protest, the commannh would zap them! I see the device on the women commannh's shoulders. I think they're the carriers, maybe just because they're taller, get a better angle on a target.

At a quiet moment, a single voice shouts, "Havar ass coban sahm arrale!"

I know the words, in Emoilihn, and he's saying, 'Bring the Music Man home!'

A shout goes up!

Others pick it up, chant, and soon it seems the whole crowd are chanting, "Havar ass coban sahm arrale!". I see few who aren't. I look for the first voice that said it, can't pick anyone out of the crowd. We're at the back of the three trucks pointed out toward the desert. I look at Soda. She seems stunned. Thimiannh is there, at my back, by the open doors of our middle truck.

"Get up inside here!" he orders. "Stand there!"

Tinunh steps to the left. I look. Thin Man's pointing to the inside of the water-truck, the... truck, the doors standing open, where the back slopes toward the top. I step up there, steady myself on the rim of the opening where Tinunh had her hands. Elevated, a cheer goes up. I raise my arm, numbly, wave without knowing what else to do. I see Soda and Thimiannh in close conference, look to the crowd, wave again. Looking back I see Thimiannh has taken two rifles from a man and a woman, dispatched those two soldiers through the crowd. The crowd parts for them! They go to the spindle-door of the pub and in, on the double.

Sodaensus steps up near me, below me on the patio. Eenunh is there beside Soda, grinning up at me. I glance behind, and see Tinunh is grinning,

Soda says, "Tell them you will come back!"

I say it, but no one can hear me. I shout it! The crowd quiets, slowly. Soda says, "Tell them you will come... home!" I shout it again! I hear them repeat my words among the chant. It is spine-tingling to hear a hundred voices say words I've just spoken!

Soda prompts me, "Tell them 'Family will prevail!'" Another of her oft repeated advisories, encouragements. 'Family will prevail.'

I yell it, "Paronde cos revondnnh! Paronde cos revondnnh!" They take up the chant! It begins, grows, replaces the other chants.

Soda is ushering Eenunh up into the truck! The cheers ripple with female voices saying other things! Eenunh steps to me puts her arms around my waist. I stop waving with my right arm, put it around her waist. The crowd responds. I'm waving with my left hand now, without stopping. Eenunh's just grinning, looking at the crowd. I don't know what else to do! How do you respond to such an accolade? Me neither. Eenunh pulls Tinunh over to stand in front of us. Tinunh puts her right foot up on the thresh-hold, her right hand on her knee, Miss Casual, lifts her right hand to wave. I perceive a response from the crowd, a short surge of sound, although the din is unrelenting!

Thimiannh's two men are back, coming out of the pub. The tall woman holds my guitar aloft! The crowd parts and lets them through. I hadn't considered taking it. Hell! Just getting myself and my... family... here has been an alarming worry. Thin Man takes it, hands it up to me! I take it, bang it on the door to my left, hold it aloft! Eenunh steadies me! The crowd roars! Tinunh's looking up at the guitar, grinning.

'Ass Coban Sahm!' 'The Music Man.' I'm laughing! I'm genuinely laughing!

The girls duck into the truck. Eenunh is touching my back, saying, "Give me your guitar!" I give it to her.

It's time to go!

Soda offers her hand and I take it. She steps up, waves to the crowd, just once, goes in.

The roar is now just noise! I can't hear words, but the voices are shrill, and loud! And numerous!

Thin Man is watching his men, assisting in closing the other truck doors as they go in. He comes to ours and in without stopping to wave. I see a sternness in his face.

I step in, sit. The bins are gone, the empty upper four racks, two benches accommodate my girls on the left, Soda on the right. Out the back windows I see the commannh close the doors on the armory truck and drive it into the corridor. Commannh close the spindle door behind it. The crowd swirls around on the patio, the voices vibrating the very skin of the truck! The truck insulates us but we can hear the voice of the crowd. Eenunh looks distressed, then, smiles beautifully, struggles against my shoulder to kiss my cheek. Tinunh's grinning, reaches across her mother to take my right hand. Soda is grinning! Her smile is always beautiful, but I don't often see her grin. Thin Man has moved to the passenger seat.

"Gary," he says, "Come and drive."

"What?" I say. Did he say...?

He repeats the command, a smile visible in his profile. 'Come... and... drive!' He leans over the driver's seat, flips levers and opens the gull-wing!

It's colder than day old dog [naughty word removed]! What is he doing?

I do as bid, with the girls all smiling, grinning! Seated I look at the wheel, wonder at the gear levers. Thin Man shifts. We're rolling! I apply my foot to the brake. We're aimed at the ramp down into the desert, but Thimiannh tells me, "Turn right, toward the crowd!" He pulls at the wheel. I ease from between the other two trucks, turn, and come near the edge of the patio, turn back along the edge of the crowd. A commannh team step closer into the crowd to make room. People are touching the bow of the water-truck. I hear them slapping hands on the side as I go slowly by! They're reaching in, touching me, brushing my left-hand finger-tips!

The female commannh is grinning, raises her hand in greeting. The male's facing into the crowd, turns, grins. Usually standoffish commannh are friendly today!

Tinunh comes between the seats, her lovely little face glowing with a grin, those wonderful golden eyes, those perfect white teeth, the maturity of her visage both a joy and a concern to me. She's a child, caught in the middle of this... drama! I'm moved to tears. My blurred vision makes me get control of my emotions. This is no time to run over a bunch of people! Eenunh is at my right elbow, kneeling, leaning between Tinunh and me, waving.

The Peoples' faces are ebullient, joyous, the noise deafening! I go as slowly as possible past them, waving, driving, smiling, waving.

When I've passed the end of the crowd near the cliff-face, I turn right, stop, to close the gull-wing. It's colder than hell! I see the Sunstar, a fuzzy bright spot through the overcast, the falling snow.

Looking up... I see... on a balcony above... the three Koobs!

I know those faces!

They're in blue blazers, not white gowns, robes.

They're watching, faces impassive, looking inward I muse, as much as outward. I make eye contact with the main Koob, golden irises flickering.

I think to wave, to... greet them, but he turns and disappears from the balcony. The one on the right, turns his head, watches the main man go, looks back down at me, golden irises flickering, disappears, touching the shoulder of the one on the left, who looks at me, eye contact, gestures a low wave, and disappears.

I turn toward the other two trucks.

"Follow this one," Thin Man commands, pointing to the one on the left. I pull up behind it, no need to stop, keep rolling as it rolls off the patio and down the slope, skidding a bit in the snow. I stop before I go over the edge, give it time to clear the bottom of the ramp, then follow, steer into the skid. My fear is intense. I haven't driven in... years. I assume the third truck is behind me. We have gone right, following to the trace, under the snow along the patio, turn left onto the packed 'roadway' across the frozen desert. We pick up speed!

Snow thrown up by the truck ahead makes me slow down. I can't see!

I find a distance where the snow from the truck in front has settled, blown off to the right, northeast, in the wind, before I get there. Thimiannh nods. We hit a steady speed, not fast, but steady. It's a slalom, around the low, frozen dunes, the rock outcrops, snow-covered cacti. Walking, you don't notice all the turnings. The trace is visible, beneath the snow, the raised edges I'm familiar with, but... even at this speed, I bump those frozen 'curbs' occasionally. I worry about my passengers, bouncing around back there. Thin Man doesn't give me any instruction, keeps his eyes ahead on the lead vehicle, which sets the pace. Soon I'm settled into a middle 'lane' and don't bump curbs... much.

Driving, in all these conditions, weather, curves, up and down, seems pleasurable...for a long time; then... it becomes tedious. I can do it. I settle in and do what is demanded of me.

It seems a long time but, then again, soon, when I see the thorn trees, the hill where... an expedition of secret purpose spent the night. It's a cold, desolate looking place. I hear Eenunh telling Soda about our trek. So much for secrets. Tinunh supplements with the facts of the return journey, pawed footprints, throwing the rocks. I relive it in memory, the swimming hole, squirrel for supper! The cairn. They don't mention the cairn.

It is a long drive after that, the slalom of weaving, up small dunes, down again, skidding, steering, slowing, going.

I'm grateful for the overcast. In Sunstarlight the snow-glare would be unbearable. I have my sunglasses but don't need them... today.

Long, tiring drive, no conversation. There's snow falling, hypnotic. I keep refocusing my mind not to be distracted by the illusion of the snow going by.

Finally, through the snow, I begin to see the blue mountains, the pine forest! We'll be there in a while. The White Road. Costaramannh Garibe. I wonder what a city will... feel like in this winter world.

The desert slopes up. The lead vehicle has stopped. I come close, stop. The green pines across the road are laden with white snow, drooping toward the ground. I wonder, foolishly if the road has been plowed, cleared of snow.

Soldiers are getting out, armed, walking past the vehicle, testing the ground left and right. One falls! Oh! She stands, dusting herself off. She's down in a ravine! She struggles to climb out, slipping, solves her problem, is up again. Oh yeah! I remember gullies among the tall weeds and bushes growing there on the slope up to the road. There was once a ramp, but it washed out long ago. I can see the pines. Remember the swimming hole, naked Eenunh cleaning blue out of our gloves.

The man on the right is stepping out a zig zag up what appears to be a wide ridge between two gullies. His right leg sinks in on the right, up to his thigh. He has not fallen, simply squatted on his left leg, pulls himself back up, goes ahead, stepping, stepping. The other soldier has joined him, crossing his trail in a zigzag. They're defining that ridge. It looks plenty wide enough for the trucks. No surprises in the middle if I can stay in the middle. They're both up now, on the level where The White Road is!

They're coming back, testing, stepping, testing. They converse with the driver through the window, come and get back in their truck, close the doors. The driver goes forward at a steady pace, slips a little, goes up onto the road, turns left, south. I follow his track, up, and up, slip, up, and up, turn south. We roll forward. Out to my left I see the third truck coming, having a little trouble, almost a full stop, getting started again, and up behind us. The men in the truck ahead open the doors. Thimiannh waves forward. They close the doors.

Off we go, on the snowy White Road, to Costaramannh!