academic problem and when lost to such efforts, all else was forgotten.
" Oly hit?" the woman asked questioningly.
"No, holy shit," Ian repeated slowly.
"Shit is not holy, only the light is holy; you must be crazy." The others around her chuckled.
"Yeah, I think I am for even being here," Ian replied.
"What you say?"
"Never mind."
"Are you of the Dissenters?" a lanky, graying man asked, stepping from out of the. shadows .
"What the hell are Dissenters?" Ian replied.
"He must be crazy," a heavy set man next to the graying one interjected.
"You dressed like that loud-mouthed girl. She of your circle?" the woman asked.
"Yeah, ahh , yeah, the girl, she's of my circle."
"Tell me, friend, do you accept the concept that individual meditation must occur within a collective body?" the gray one asked. "Or do you accept the right of dissent from the collective?"
Think quick , Ian, he thought frantically. However, he instinctively realized that twenty years of academic com bat and bullshitting had put him in good stead. Ian noticed how the graying one said dissent with a note of venom. He also realized that the gray man held a very big club.
"What say you, friend?" the heavyset one asked softly, and he slowly hefted his club.
"Of course, what other way is there?" Ian blurted. "The individual must always be a part within the collective body." He prayed that he got his words correct; most of the Old American was familiar, but occasional colloqui alism and, of course, the slang could be deadly. Especially now, so he tried to speak with rigid preciseness.
He could sense them relaxing.
"Come, friend, and sit with us in the circle of understanding." The woman beckoned for him to follow.
She looked at him with a soft glow, and he suddenly realized how attractive she was in a wild, primitive way. She was almost completely naked except for a brief loincloth that barely covered her broad, inviting hips. He couldn't help but admire her full, rounded breasts, which were partially concealed by her flowing red hair. She no ticed his stare and smiled back at him with a seductive gaze. For the moment thoughts of rescue drifted away.
Primitives, he thought, looking for all the world like Neolithic tribesmen or something out of Eden. Yes, it could be Eden: the lush growth, the warm semitropical air, and now that the helmet was off, the sounds of birds and night creatures stirring around him.
Following the lead of the woman, they pushed their way into a small clearing, illuminated by a roaring blaze. Several dozen figures sat around the crackling flame, and one of them was Shelley.
He couldn't help but look at the redhead, even as he tried to get his thoughts under control. Shelley turned as one of the people by the fire pointed at the new arrivals.
"Shelley, everything, all right?"
"Ian? Well, if it isn't Dr. Lacklin , who's finally come to rescue me."
Was she mocking him, or was there a slight tone of relief in her voice?
Ian stepped into the circle of light and, gazing around, saw that dozens more had gathered around in curiosity.
He drifted over to Shelley's side, smiling broadly and nervously all the while, noticing that they smiled back just as broadly. Good lord, why are they smiling like such damn fools at a total stranger?
"Dinner." Someone was poking him in the back.
He turned with a yelp and was confronted by an old man bent over with age.
"Dinner," the man said again.
Good lord, was that why they were smiling? They were going to have them for dinner.
"Shelley!"
" It's okay, Ian, the food's not bad. Some sort of veg etarian mix, that's all."
He finally understood and broke into a nervous grin. "Thank you, ahh , friend ."
A number of people around the circle mumbled their approval at his comment.
He drew closer to Shelley and sat down by her side. "What happened?"
"Most likely, same as you. They jumped me, but once I took the helmet off, they calmed down. Something about dissenters and I assured them I was
" Oly hit?" the woman asked questioningly.
"No, holy shit," Ian repeated slowly.
"Shit is not holy, only the light is holy; you must be crazy." The others around her chuckled.
"Yeah, I think I am for even being here," Ian replied.
"What you say?"
"Never mind."
"Are you of the Dissenters?" a lanky, graying man asked, stepping from out of the. shadows .
"What the hell are Dissenters?" Ian replied.
"He must be crazy," a heavy set man next to the graying one interjected.
"You dressed like that loud-mouthed girl. She of your circle?" the woman asked.
"Yeah, ahh , yeah, the girl, she's of my circle."
"Tell me, friend, do you accept the concept that individual meditation must occur within a collective body?" the gray one asked. "Or do you accept the right of dissent from the collective?"
Think quick , Ian, he thought frantically. However, he instinctively realized that twenty years of academic com bat and bullshitting had put him in good stead. Ian noticed how the graying one said dissent with a note of venom. He also realized that the gray man held a very big club.
"What say you, friend?" the heavyset one asked softly, and he slowly hefted his club.
"Of course, what other way is there?" Ian blurted. "The individual must always be a part within the collective body." He prayed that he got his words correct; most of the Old American was familiar, but occasional colloqui alism and, of course, the slang could be deadly. Especially now, so he tried to speak with rigid preciseness.
He could sense them relaxing.
"Come, friend, and sit with us in the circle of understanding." The woman beckoned for him to follow.
She looked at him with a soft glow, and he suddenly realized how attractive she was in a wild, primitive way. She was almost completely naked except for a brief loincloth that barely covered her broad, inviting hips. He couldn't help but admire her full, rounded breasts, which were partially concealed by her flowing red hair. She no ticed his stare and smiled back at him with a seductive gaze. For the moment thoughts of rescue drifted away.
Primitives, he thought, looking for all the world like Neolithic tribesmen or something out of Eden. Yes, it could be Eden: the lush growth, the warm semitropical air, and now that the helmet was off, the sounds of birds and night creatures stirring around him.
Following the lead of the woman, they pushed their way into a small clearing, illuminated by a roaring blaze. Several dozen figures sat around the crackling flame, and one of them was Shelley.
He couldn't help but look at the redhead, even as he tried to get his thoughts under control. Shelley turned as one of the people by the fire pointed at the new arrivals.
"Shelley, everything, all right?"
"Ian? Well, if it isn't Dr. Lacklin , who's finally come to rescue me."
Was she mocking him, or was there a slight tone of relief in her voice?
Ian stepped into the circle of light and, gazing around, saw that dozens more had gathered around in curiosity.
He drifted over to Shelley's side, smiling broadly and nervously all the while, noticing that they smiled back just as broadly. Good lord, why are they smiling like such damn fools at a total stranger?
"Dinner." Someone was poking him in the back.
He turned with a yelp and was confronted by an old man bent over with age.
"Dinner," the man said again.
Good lord, was that why they were smiling? They were going to have them for dinner.
"Shelley!"
" It's okay, Ian, the food's not bad. Some sort of veg etarian mix, that's all."
He finally understood and broke into a nervous grin. "Thank you, ahh , friend ."
A number of people around the circle mumbled their approval at his comment.
He drew closer to Shelley and sat down by her side. "What happened?"
"Most likely, same as you. They jumped me, but once I took the helmet off, they calmed down. Something about dissenters and I assured them I was
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