Dinosaurus Planet Survivors

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The next morning Varian and Kai called together all the survivors to explain their move back to the original campsite. The only one to protest was Aulia, and she did so at the top of her lungs, hysterically proclaiming that they were being transferred to their deaths where those hideous animals were ready to charge at them again, not to mention the things that had eaten Kai. At that point, even the insensitive Aulia became aware of the disapproval from all sides. Her monologue subsided into a rebellious mutter.

“Commander Sassinak has equipped us with attack-repulse force screens,” Kai said, “and a device which is new to us but infallible in detecting aggression from any source. I think we can return in good heart. That site is, after all, where ARCT-10 will search for us.”

“Kai, Arcteen, you can’t honestly think we’ll ever see them again, do you?” Aulia’s voice was quite shrill.

The three youngsters tensed and looked intently at Kai, waiting for his response.

“Yes, I can honestly believe that the ARCT-10 will return for us. This is an instance where no news can be construed as good news. Neither Captain Godheir nor Commander Sassinak found anything in their data banks about the loss of an EV. And such a loss would have been news galaxy wide. Commander Sassinak has requested a Sector update with specific references to a position report on the ARCT-10.”

“In forty-three years the ARCT-10 could be in another galaxy. Maybe that’s why no one has heard of it.”

“By the same token,” Lunzie called in a dry taunting voice, “it could have taken forty-three years to maneuver out of that cosmic storm.”

Eager to continue the attack, Aulia took a deep breath which she exhaled on a gasp as Portegin pinched her upper arm. Rubbing it, she turned to Triv. When she saw the set of his jaw and the irritation in his expression, she subsided into a petulant sulk.

“Now, we’d best organize the removal. The Zaid-Dayan people will be meeting us at the campsite at 0900. Let’s get cracking.”

Lunzie pointed a very stern forefinger at Kai. “You will be executive director of the proceedings. Seated here!” Her forefinger then indicated the stool by the hearth.

Kai grinned at her and made a show of assuming his command position.

It did not, in fact, take much time to secure the sparse furnishings in the shuttle, nor to pack oddments in the sleds. Varian was going to retain a two-man sled for her own use and keep a few basic necessities in the cave, to allow her to continue her observations, if weather and circumstances ever permitted. Kenley then arrived with other crew members from the Mazer Star to assist in the removal.

Triv was to pilot the shuttle, and firmly grasping the unrepentant Aulia by the elbow, propelled her into the shuttle. Lunzie followed “to deal with her, if necessary,” the medic said in angry aside to Varian. Portegin brought up the rear, looking as glum as Aulia but for a different reason. Dimenon was to take Trizein, Terilla, and Cleiti in the four-man sled, along with Trizein’s accouterments. Trizein was full of directions to the girls on what should be recorded on their outward trip, while Dimenon would take one of the smaller sleds, giving Bonnard a driving lesson which, Bonnard allowed vehemently, was long overdue for a man fifty-eight years old. Margit and Kai were taking the other small sled, packed with whatever was left over.

When all were ready to take off, Kenley went up the ladder to the top of the cliff, determined to film the exodus and giff reaction to it. Weather permitting, he sourly amended. A black squall line was making its way across the inland sea. Varian, and another recorder would remain in the cave. She was rather hoping that the Elder Three Giffs would enter the cavern, once the ‘big egg’ had flown away. The shuttle’s take-off could pose quite a cultural shock to the giffs, but its removal couldn’t be helped. The shuttle was an essential unit for the main campsite. Its departure would certainly give insights to giff intelligence and perception, parameters which Varian was eager to establish despite the considerable shock it would occasion the giffs.

The smaller sleds went first, bulleted a bit by the squall winds but flying quickly away from the turbulence. The heavier shuttle had to be turned, a maneuver Triv accomplished deftly, then it moved majestically from the cave, and rose with great dignity above the cliff. Varian grinned to herself: there was an element of unexpected theatricality in old Triv. She thought she heard a muted cry of astonishment from Kenley but the wind had got up and she couldn’t be sure.

With the sleds and shuttle gone, the cave seemed barren, her small alcove an intrusion. She settled lightly on the stool, shifting the weight of the recorder to her shoulder. The vines billowed in, and a splatter of the morning rain reached her, misting across her face and hands, making the small hearth fire hiss. She was positive she heard giff cries, shrill and excited. Why hadn’t she thought to equip Kenley with a wrist unit so he could tell her what was happening. Yes, she did hear what could only be a whoop, and a completely human emission. Patiently she waited.

She was rewarded. Suddenly the vines were shoved aside as three large golden fliers glided in, coming to a halt a respectful distance from where the shuttle had nested so long. Varian grinned at her use of terminology as she recorded them. All Three Giffs stared at the empty space, their wings still half-extended. The end giffs turned their heads inquiringly toward Middle Giff who gave the equivalent of a shrug and neatly laid his wings to his back in a gesture that might be rendered as resignation to an unpleasant truth.

Then each of the giffs appeared sunk down on its legs, pulling its wings tighter to the body and retracting the neck slightly. Varian perceived an aura of sadness and disappointment about the giffs. A small sound, just at the audible level, came to her ears. It had to be emanating from the giffs for it was not a squall or wind noise: a sad and sorrowing note. So sad that Varian felt the short hairs on the back of her neck begin to rise and decided it was time to make a move.

She had just shifted the recorder when Kenley unexpectedly slid down the ladder pole. The giffs extended their wings, hissing and exclaiming so loudly that Varian was alarmed.

“Kenley, stand still! Spread out your arms! You’re peaceful!”

“I’ll say I am!” Kenley complied with her instructions but backed against the ladder as the nearest means of escape from the winged creatures obviously bent on attacking him.

To give him full credit, Kenley stood his ground while Varian dashed around the advancing giffs and jumped between them and Kenley.

“Don’t hurt him!” Varian cried, arms spread wide in front of the giffs to impede their progress. “You know me! You must know me.”

“What if they don’t remember you?” Kenley had grabbed the first rungs of the ladder.

“I’m friendly! You know me.” It took a tremendous effort for Varian to keep her voice friendly. The giffs were so close to her that she could smell the aroma of fish and spice that they exuded. Their long pointed beaks had raised slightly and she was being regarded by very keen, hostile eyes. The midwing digits were flexing as if to seize her.

“I’m sorry, I still don’t have any of the Rift grasses for you. Now is really not the time to appear before you empty-handed but I didn’t expect Kenley to come flying down here before I’d had a chance to talk with you. Not that you could understand more than the tone of voice, but you do see that I’m trying to be pleasant and friendly. Don’t you?”

Middle Giff was towering over her, digits working, its head cocked slightly as it kept its right eye fixed on her.

“Krims, Varian, I don’t even have a stunner on my belt! What’re you going to do?”

“I’m going to keep talking,” she said, smiling so broadly she felt her cheeks might crack. “And you’re not going to move a muscle unless they dive on me. Then you better move it up that ladder.” Her tone was lightly cheerful despite her ominous words and when Kenley groaned, she added, “Don’t do that to me, friend. You be as cheerful as I am. They understand tone, and that wasn’t a good one. Okay?”

“I gotcha.”

Varian had to grin at the intensity of his rejoinder. Then very slowly she extended her hand.

“Now, let’s see if we can make the first overtures of what I hope will be a lasting friendship.” She watched Middle Giffs body, flicking her glance to his wings briefly but it was as curious about her next move as she was about the giffs reaction to it. Moving with great precision, Varian touched the wing claw of the giff. It twitched but the giff did not retreat. Varian let her fingers drift from the claw to the wing surface. “Hey, you feel almost oily. It’s not like fur at all.”

“That thing has fur? I thought birds always had feathers.”

“There’s a point in evolution when fur was feathers or the other way round. Giffs are furred.”

Varian withdrew her hand from Middle Giff who had been regarding her with unblinking eyes. Now suddenly it blinked several times, for all the world like a small child which had steeled itself for an unknown experience and had received a pleasant surprise.

“There! That wasn’t so terrible now, was it?” she said, grinning in an honest reaction to its manner.

She turned her body toward the smaller giff and, allowing it time to withdraw, touched its wing claw lightly. It endured the contact but immediately took a small backward step.

“Okay, I get the message.” She looked at the other small giff and as if it sensed her intention, it, too, stepped back. “I receive you loud and clear.” She looked back at Middle Giff. “You’re the courageous one, are you?”

Something like a croon could be heard from Middle Giff. Its throat was vibrating.

“Oh, you agree with me, huh?” Slowly, once again, she extended her hand for the wing claw, its three digits lying loose. She took one between her thumb and forefinger and pressed very gently. “An Iretan handshake. First contact between species.”

“You got guts!” Kenley breathed behind her.

“Just don’t move, Kenley.”

“Not a hair. I’ll leave it all up to you.”

She maintained the light grasp, and her wide smile, aware of the intense scrutiny of Middle Giff. Then, tentatively, the claws lightly closed about her fingers. It felt warm and dry and she wondered what impression the giff had of its contact with her flesh. The claw released her fingers and she drew back her hand.

“Ordinarily, one says, hello, how are you today?” Varian inclined her body in a slight bow and gurgled with triumph as the giff rocked forward slightly toward her.

“I should have had that recorded, Varian. I really should. That’s what I’m here to do, isn’t it?” Kenley sounded aggrieved and Varian had to contain her ire.

“If you hadn’t clattered down that ladder like the Galormis were after you.” Varian had to keep her voice pleasant but she was annoyed with Kenley for his entrance.

“I wouldn’t have,” he replied with exasperation, “if I’d known you had this trio here. But I didn’t. How did they get here?”

“They flew.”

“Sorry. I guess I was in a hurry. Hey, I’ve got to get this recorded.”

“Just move slowly is all I ask, Kenley.” Varian held the gaze of Middle Giff.

It had made a slight noise, deep in its chest, and the other two giffs had begun to back away from Varian. Then, as if this were a much rehearsed courtesy, the Middle Giff began to back up, an awkward movement for one of its size. Then, with a second comment, the three giffs waddled with a certain stately dignity to the mouth of the cave and dropped off. Kenley raced to the edge, recorder trained on their exit.

“Wow! I got that recorded!” Kenley ignored the fact that it was his behavior that had caused him to lose the more impressive scene of the first contact.

Varian let out a sigh of intense relief. Sweat was standing out on her forehead and she wiped it away on her sleeve as reaction weakened her knees. She moved back to her stool and sat down heavily.

“Rule number one in recording animals of unknown habits and custom-approach cautiously from any direction.”

“Hey, Varian, the three who were here have gone to roost but there’s a whole flotilla of ’em disappearing southeast, down the sea.”

Nervous reaction forgotten, Varian sprinted to the entrance, hanging onto a vine to swing out past the lip, craning her head upward. The earlier squall had departed and in misty sky she could see the golden fliers on their daily rounds, fish nets trailing from their feet.

“Hope you have plenty of footage left, Kenley, because we’re going fishing! C’mon!” He joined her in the sled. Thanks be to Krims, but it was great to be doing what she’d been yearning to do ever since she woke up.