Giving his mind over to the task, losing himself in the physicality of his work, was like taking a drink of good whiskey. He hadn't realized that the knot had formed in his gut again until it released a little. Being with his twin was totally unlike being alone. Even being with Maneck and having that fucking sahael stuck in his neck hadn't wound his guts up this way. It was being around another human - any other human. And in particular this prickly sonofabitch!
At the same time, he understood that he was also setting his twin's teeth on edge. How could he not? Better to worry about which knots best bound the cane to the branches of the raft. He was already quite aware of his own failings as a man. No reason to stew in them.
By afternoon, Ramon was satisfied with his new design, and it still took him hours to lash the cane onto the raft, build the framework, and then lace the remaining lengths together as a support structure. He set aside four long poles to tie down over the layer of leaves that would actually serve to slough off the rain. Providing, of course, that the other man ever got his lazy ass back. Ramon had been working all day. How long did it take to pull down some leaves and find a few pinche branches? They were in a forest; wood shouldn't be that hard to find.
As it happened, his twin emerged from the forest an hour or so before nightfall. He had what looked like half a bushel of iceroot leaves bound to his back with ivy and an improvised stretcher of branches trailing behind him, loaded with sticks the right size for burning. Ramon had to admit it wasn't a bad load for a man with a broken hand and no knife. The other man dropped his burden at the riverside, squatted, and cupped handful after handful of water up to his lips. High above, the Enye ships hung in the sky.
"Looks good," Ramon said.
"Yeah," the other man said, weariness in his voice. "It's okay. May need a way to keep the firewood from rolling off, though."
"We can do that."
The other man looked at the raft and rubbed his cheeks with his palm. Ramon came to stand at his side.
"Solid," the man said. "Good design. Kind of small, though, eh?"
"Didn't figure we'd both be in it at once," Ramon said. "One of us is going to be steering. Sleep in shifts. That kind of thing."
"What if it rains?"
"Then whoever's steering gets wet," Ramon said. "Or else we both crawl out of the rain like we're humping each other."
"We get wet, then. Right. You got the knife?"
He held out his hand. Ramon dropped the leather grip into the man's palm.
"Thanks," his twin said, then spun and brought the tip of the blade to Ramon's throat. The man's eyes were narrow and furious, his mouth in a wide grin that had nothing to do with pleasure. It was the expression the European had seen; Ramon was sure of it.
"Now," the man said through clenched teeth. "How about you tell me what the fuck you really are?"
Chapter Nineteen
"I don't ... I don't know what you're talking about, man," Ramon said.
The other man dug the knifepoint into Ramon's neck. Ramon felt the urge to step back, away from the blade, but he fought it. Showing weakness now would be an invitation. He forced himself to stay calm, or as calm as he could.
"You're no fucking banker," the man said, spitting the words out. "You build like that. You know how to sharpen my knife. What kind of banker knows that?"
"I told you," Ramon said. "I spend a lot of time - "
"Out at the ass end of nowhere? Yeah, because that makes a fucking lot of sense. And you just happen to come up here. A month ago. And no one gives a shit that you're gone? No one sends out a search party? That sound likely to you? And your beard. You telling me that's a month's growth on your chin? Or did the aliens give you a razor to clean up with while you were there? Your hands. You've got calluses on your fingers. That from data entry?"
Ramon looked at his hands. The hard, yellowed flesh was starting to come back a little. He balled his fists. The man's grip on the knife got stronger, the pressure against Ramon's skin hurt a little.
"You're