The patrol

From: aranwyth_at_...
Date: Thu, 21 Jun 2001 11:15:56 -0000

The Lunar Patrol stood looking down into the valley. Windmills and watermills stretched as far as the eye could see, which was not to the horizon, because there wasn't one. Or was there? Most of the people (for there are no men and women amongst the Orlanthi, just nonmen  and non-women) who could be seen below were doing very odd things. There were people jumping along tree tops, non-men with sensible trousers were running up and down the cliffs which rose steeply from the far side of the valley floor, other non-men were dancing naked amongst the barley. Non-women where pulling some sort of parchment and wood construction through the air, colliding with others who seemed to be swimming in the air, as if in water.

With the steady clatter of the mills, the constant blowing of horns, pipes and flutes and the clanging of wind chimes, it is wonder that the Orlanthi could communicate with each other. But although none spoke without yelling, the cacophony did not seem to matter to them. With all the bellowing it was hard to tell people from cattle.

'What's *he* doing?' said one of the young Lunar soldiers. His companions turned to watch a non-woman in a non-skirt jumping and leaping among some huge, regularly patterned standing stones expelling air out of his backside in some sort of incredible rhythm. 'Must be some sort of religious ceremony' said another. 'Nonsense! It couldn't be' said the patrol leader, 'you would need a big city for such a thing', and with that they left.