Intrepid

''It's getting a mite bit crowded in here,'' the whitebeard said, joining the group around Andy. ''And Grampa wants to have a word with whoever is in charge of our rescuers.''

So saying, he led the way through the door and down dirt stairs. Whoever said that dirt here got hard as concrete once it got in contact with the air had it right. Kris was careful with her weight, but the stairs showed no tendency to crumble.

Too bad Kris couldn't be equally careful with her height. Both the floor and ceiling were uneven. Kris divided her time, half watching her step, the other half looking out for her head. As luck would have it, she was watching her head when she stumbled and looking out for her feet when she banged her head.

Surely, there is no justice. At least, not for Longknifes.

Fortunately, they had not far to go. Down one flight of stairs from the cool room, along a short corridor, then down a ladder. At that point, they turned once, then a second time, and finally a third while going only a short way in each direction. That took them to a room with a rough table and a couple of chairs. The wall on both sides had been left with a step up that served a dozen people as seats.

At the end of the table, eyeing Kris, was a man easily Grampa Ray's age. Only his days had been lived in the sun doing hard work, not at any desk. His hands were curled on the table, knuckles large and red. Kris suspected arthritis was finally enforcing a pause on the old workhorse. And he didn't much care for the break. Beside him sat a woman of equal age.

Kris stood, waiting for introductions.

A few more people squeezed into the room, dimly lit by a single electric lantern. When the elder seemed happy with what a glance around told him, his scowl got even deeper.

''So we drew a Longknife. I thought I'd seen the last of your kind when Ray didn't manage to get me killed on Hamdan II.''

''You and he seem to have saved humanity,'' Kris said softly. ''We haven't heard from the Iteeche in over eighty years.''

The man snorted, but did grin at the praise. ''Yeah, we did settle their four-eyed bacon. We sure did, didn't we, Hilda?''

''Those of us that survived the butchers passing themselves off for colonels. Admirals,'' the old woman said. Her teeth must have been false, for she had a whistle when she spoke. One eye was covered with a cataract or something. Curing things like that was supposed to be minor surgery.

Kris schooled her face to a gentle neutrality and waited to see where this was going.

''We ain't needed your like for sixty years,'' came from a man sitting against the wall. Around the wall, people nodded and agreed among themselves that he was right.

''You sure haven't,'' Kris said into their wave of self-affirmation. It died down after a while.

The old man shook his head and actually smiled at Kris. ''Nice of you not to point out that we're hiding down here like a bunch of rabbits just now.''

''I figured you'd bring it up when you were ready to,'' Kris said. ''If you don't mind my asking. This is quite a setup you have. I kind of doubt you dug it while those raiders were in-bound. This well-prepared defense certainly has thrown a wrench into their plans. How'd you come by it?''

The elder's smile deepened. He took the praise for what it was, a pat on the back, well earned, but ''defensive.'' Around the wall, some congratulated each other as if they had won the war.

''Didn't Andy tell you? Iteeche and Earthmen was a fun game when he was growing up. They'd dig tunnels and underground forts and ambush those ‘dirty Iteeches.' ''

''I told her about our forts,'' Andy put in. ''I kind of left out the Iteeche stuff. Out there, the four-eyes seem to be pretty well forgotten. At least where I was.''

''They are, some places,'' Kris agreed. ''I kind of have my great-grandfathers to remind me how close we all came to being an extinct race that might be the subject of an anthro paper half a million years from now for some four-eyed college student.''

''Do they have colleges?'' Andy asked.

''I never heard tell they did,'' the elder answered. ''Did the generals know more than us guys down at the gun batteries?''

''Not that I ever heard,'' Kris said. ''We beat them back without ever learning a whole lot about them.''

''All we needed to know was how to kill them,'' the woman said.

''So,'' Kris said, changing the topic away from the distant past, ''when did you start digging?''

''A bit after Andy left,'' the old man said. ''A tub wandered by here, not much trade on it, but a dozen couples got off. They were from a little place I'd heard of, Finny's Rainbow. They'd been hit by a raider. He stole all their ready cargo, a lot of their herds, and for fun, burned out a couple of spreads. The merchant tub had given them a lift out of the kindness of his heart … and an IOU signed in blood.''