need a specific type of palm frond. And I can't see any of them from here.”
“Join one of the caveman patrols,” Mia suggests. “They'll keep you safe, and they can even take you out of the safest zone if you don't find what you need there. They can help you cut down the trees, too. And carry them here.”
I place my mug on the shelf we've built next to the campfire. “I don't know. I'd just slow them down and give them another thing to worry about.”
“They would probably be honored to do it,” Sophia says. “Most of them still half believe that women are mythical creatures. They would do their best.”
I stand up and stretch, letting the first rays of the morning sun heat my face just a little bit. “We'll see. I doubt I could keep up with them. But I'll keep it in mind. Anyway, why are you chicks just sitting around? It's like you don't even have bosses to suck up to or professors to flatter. Seriously, don't you have bills to pay? News to watch? Celebs to stalk on social media? Weight gain to worry about?”
Sophia grins. “Hey, we're gainfully unemployed. That's the way we like it.”
“Girls,” Aurora says, “are we blessed, or what? I mean, this place is tough as nails. But it's like, it's fine. We can handle it. The problems here are so much simpler to deal with than all the societal stuff back on Earth. Not easier, but simpler. Does that make sense? No? I know I keep saying this, but I'm probably happier than ever.”
All the married girls nod and murmur agreement.
“Fine,” I agree and sit down again, just because I can. “I succumb to peer pressure. Actually, I sometimes like this place, too. Just one more cup of not-coffee and I'll be all over today's things-to-do. Okay, maybe two cups. Don't want to rush into things.”
- - -
An hour later I'm at the edge of the village, peering over the fence to the caveman section. There's no sign of life, not even fires outside any of their fifty low huts. Either nobody's up yet, or they're all having one of their exercises deep in the jungle.
I chew thoughtfully on a leaf of Cathay Blue, the moderately tasty plant we use instead of brushing our teeth. Beyond the caveman section is the jungle itself. Despite the bright sunlight, it manages to look dark and gloomy. The trees are taller than most I've seen on Earth, still dripping from the morning mist. The tropical forest makes a sound like from an old television, just hissing. It has a smell, too. Organic and sweet and fresh and rotting and alive.
Somewhere out in that rainforest there's a thousand evil dragons and millions of deadly dinosaurs.
I climb through the fence, which is only supposed to be a visual border and not to actually stop anyone from going over it. I walk past the army huts, hearing no sound of snoring or anything. Yeah, probably an exercise somewhere.
There's no fence towards the jungle on this side. The caveman camp itself is probably enough of a deterrent to anyone with sinister plans.
Feeling brave, I walk all the way up to the closest tree and look into the darkness. Not a single beam of light reaches the forest floor. It’s weird how gloomy it can be, even during daytime.
When my eyes get used to the dark, I spot exactly what I need, just a hundred yards away. A tree has fallen down, and it does look as if it is exactly the kind I need for the lye. The crown is still fresh and green, and it's thick. Easily a ton of fronds right there, just what I need. I could harvest it all in one day, making several rounds, dragging the big fronds back to the village. I could make a lot of soap from the lye, several months’ supply.
I could give the various batches different scents and different shapes. Experiment with colors. Maybe make molds in funny shapes or with our names on them. The girls would love that, I’m pretty sure. It would be a whole product line. Like Dove. Except doves are too puny for us. We're used to flying dinos by now. I could call it Dactýl, make it sound more classy. Or maybe something less scary, like Dolay?
Hmm. Not perfect. Well, I don’t need a name for it right now. The girls will like it anyway.