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generations, I imagine there will be all sorts of
apochryphal tales as to why it has that name.”
    “It was named after old Jebediah
Dennsee,” Park drawled, “the inventor of the flannel plaid shirt.”
    “That’ll confuse the young
whippersnappers,” Arn laughed. “We don’t have any flannel in stores here and
now.”
    “We probably should have,” Park
replied. “If you consider no one knew what sort of climate we would be waking
up to. A good flannel shirt in the middle of a nuclear winter might have been
essential.”
    “Even now the stuff could have
been used for rags and been more useful than those two helicopters,” Arn
admitted. “One is collecting dust out in a corner of Hanger One and the other
was destroyed when that so-called Alliance negotiator, Jance, decided to attack
the spaceport.”
    “What with the Mer-built buggies
we haven’t needed either of them lately,” Park admitted. “I doubt there’s any
useable fuel after all this time for that matter.”
    “I kept a few tanks full in
stasis,” Arn admitted. “You never know and there’s a museum in Ristro that’s
been hinting they might like the old bird for their collection.”
    “So what else is new since I
left?” Park asked.
    “That wing on your house,” Arn
chuckled.
    “Hah! That took me by surprise,”
Park laughed. “Marisea wanted her own place but also didn’t want to move away,
so Iris built on the extension, though she didn’t tell me about it. It just
slipped her mind.”
    “It nearly doubled the size of
the place,” Arn observed, looking over his shoulder at Park’s house, which
still stood well away from the other residences of Van Winkletown.
    “I asked about that,” Park
replied, “and all Iris would say was that Marisea liked to entertain in private
sometimes. At first I thought Iris was speaking in euphemisms and I wondered
how many boys Marisea had sleeping over, but then I realized that Marisea had
been on Owatino with me except for a few short vacations and the new wing was
as much of a surprise to her.”
    “So why so much space?” Arn
asked.
    “Iris figured that if Marisea had
her own place, she should have a complete apartment with bath, kitchen and so
forth,” Park told him. There’s an adjoining door that she can close and lock
for privacy if she wants. So far she doesn’t see much need for that. time will
tell; she may change her mind. But you’re avoiding my question. What else is
new here?”
    “Well, you can see all the new
buildings,” Arn gestured, “and you’ll note that the new runways and the repairs
to the old one were finished at the port.”
    “And the VTOL pads are in place,”
Park added. “I see one is even in use.”
    “Merchant ship from Gallsee, I
think,” Arn commented. “She comes in about once every other month. Getting back
to the Atackack students, I really don’t know why we haven’t had any
inter-tribal incidents. Sure these bugs are shaman class and trained to
overcome their warlike instincts, but…”
    “Very few females here,” Park
answered, “and don’t call them bugs, Arn. It’s like calling us monkeys or
apes.”
    “I’ve been called a big ape often
enough,” Arn shrugged.
    “By someone of a different
species?” Park countered. “Anyway, their territorial instincts are brought out
by pheromones only the females emit. When I first learned about it, I thought
Taodore was only talking about their queens, but apparently even the warriors,
who are mostly female as well, do the same thing. I suppose it holds an army,
or even a whole settlement, together. Away from the females, the males are not
biologically driven to fight with members of different tribes.”
    “We do have some female Atackack
here,” Arn noted.
    “They’re shaman-class too,” Park
pointed out. “Different. I’m told they are trained not to emit the pheromones
although some of them cannot in any case. It might be the Atackack version of
homosexuality. The males are