Dinosaurus Planet Survivors

CHAPTER THREE

“Kaaaiiii!” The rumble that awakened Kai was a nightmare sound because the noise not only issued from a source uncomfortably close to his ear but it also vibrated through the stone under him.

“Huh? Whaaat?” Varian lifted her head from its pillow on his upper arm. “Tor? She blinked up at the rock which, from her perspective, towered above them.

As she moved, the recorder was firmly placed on Kai’s diaphragm, forcing an exhalation from him.

“Location old core?” the recorder said in lugubrious tones.

“The old core?” Varian’s voice echoed the astonishment which she and Kai felt for that totally unexpected query. “We’ve nearly been murdered, stripped of all survival equipment, out of touch with everyone…”

Kai tightened his arm to silence her. “Typical Thek logic, Varian. It chose the issue important to it, not us. I wonder if that old core is what stirred Tor to come.”

“Huh?” Varian struggled to a sitting position, drawing her legs away from Tor’s meter-high triangular lump of granite.

“Where do you remember last seeing that core?” Kai asked her.

“Frankly, I’d other things on my mind than ancient geological artifacts and yet…” She frowned as she searched her memory. “It must have been in Gaber’s dome. Paskutti wouldn’t have been interested in it. Would Bakkun have hung on to it for some obscure reason?”

“Bakkun?” Kai thought of the heavy world geologist with whom he had often teamed on field trips. “No, he wouldn’t value it. He already knew where the ore sites were.” Kai looked up at the Thek. “Original compound!”

Tor rumbled but Kai was diverted by Varian’s urgent tug on his arm.

“If he’s going to the compound, Kai, we could take a power pack and go with him. The heavyworlders couldn’t have used the sleds without power. They might still be where they were stashed. If we could have some form of transport…”

“Accompany for search, Tor!” Kai said in loud measured tones, repeating the request as the Thek’s rumbling continued.

“I wonder where we’d fit,” said Varian, thoughtfully staring at the Thek vehicle.

The fit, as Kai discovered, was exceedingly close for just one of them. The spare power pack could be secured neatly to one side of Tor’s pointed top but one full-sized human had to cram his body against the curve of the shield canopy, arching over the Thek’s mass. After taking a long look at his flight position, Kai turned to Varian.

“I think you’d better wake Lunzie and Triv. The others can stay in cold sleep until we need them but I’d rather have the two Disciples awake.”

“You’re not expecting trouble, are you? Here?” asked Varian, incredulously spreading her arms to include the dim vine-bedecked cave.

“No.” Kai grinned. “Not here! But I don’t know how long I’ll be with Tor.” He shrugged. “You’d be better off with someone to talk to. And they could be useful, if only for the experience they’ve gained on other expeditions.”

Varian nodded agreement and returned Kai’s grin, then Tor closed the canopy about them. The Thek was warmer than Kai had thought, so he spent most of the mercifully short trip to the original compound site clutching desperately to the grips which Tor had fashioned for him on the shield’s interior. Kai remembered the trip as a series of incredible acrobatics on his part and a green blur for the Thek sled was capable of considerably more speed than the ones designed for humanoids. Finally Tor braked its forward speed and began an abrupt circling movement.

“Here?” Tor rumbled. The word reverberated in the enclosed space like a klaxon.

Dazedly Kai looked down and wondered how Tor could have recognized anything at the speed with which it was circling. Kai felt nauseous.

“Here!” To stop the dizzying motion, Kai would have confirmed any location, but he had recognized the ledge on which the space shuttle had once rested. Tor braked the cone in the same spot and Kai groggily disengaged himself, then waited until the shield had been lifted and he could step back onto solid ground. It would be a long time before he volunteered to go anywhere in a Thek vehicle.

He turned and stared open-mouthed at the compound. All too vivid in his memory was his last sight of it, littered with what the heavyworlders had ruthlessly discarded: the little hyracotherium’s body, neck snapped in a totally unnecessary display of brutality; Terilla’s lovely botanical sketches ground into the dust; discs and shards of records. He heard thunder rolling. His heart skipped as he whirled anxiously toward the slope where he had first seen the bobbing black line of stampeding hadrosaurs which the mutineers had unleashed on the compound. But now the thunder was atmospheric.

In the midst of the sudden Iretan downpour, Kai now stared at an amphitheater of sand and stone. The only signs that humans had once inhabited the site were two broken stumps where the force veil had formed an opening. How long had it taken the scavengers of Ireta to reduce the mountains of dead hadrosaurs and scour the site clean? Not so much as a horn was left. And the lack of vegetation gave him no clue as to the passage of time. The amphitheater had been only a sandy bowl when they occupied it.

Of their own anxious accord, his eyes strayed, to register the reassuring absence of menaces stampeding from the plain. Kai hadn’t realized how that event had branded itself into his subconscious. He would have to try Discipline in sleep that night. He couldn’t have an inhibiting incident crop up, possibly to interfere later with situations on different planets at an awkward moment.

“Where?” Tor had emerged from the vehicle and trundled beside him.

Kai pointed to the site of Gaber’s dome, bleakly remembering that they had had to leave Gaber’s body. It, too, had been returned to dust. In space, he had always wondered at that archaic burial phrase. It was appropriate here.

“The core was there!”

Tor slid down the slope, the unevenness of the surface posing no problem, but Kai noticed that the Thek left a steaming trail. He followed the stone was still hot enough to penetrate Kai’s thick boot sole.

“Here?” The sound grated out of Tor as the Thek stopped in the designated site.

“This was the site of the geology dome, the main shelter was precisely here,” and Kai walked to the position. “The individual accommodations were across that part of the compound.”

Then he stared at Tor because that was the longest plain speech he had ever made to a Thek and he wondered if the creature absorbed statements not couched in the short speech they preferred. He opened his mouth to structure the explanation properly when a rumble from Tor stopped him.

Not for the first time, Kai wondered if the silicon life-form might have hidden telepathic ability. Now that he thought of it, you always knew what a Thek wanted to find out despite its succinct speech. You could distinguish a command from a question that required a yes or no answer, yet there had only been the one or two cue words to elicit a response.

Tor was on the move again, this time in an obvious search pattern. An extremity in the shape of a broad flange was poised just above the surface of the dusty compound floor. The Thek progressed ten meters in one direction, abruptly turned and examined the adjacent strip.

Clearly any effort on Kai’s part would be redundant, so he strode down the slight slope to where the veil opening had been. Only the stubs of the heavy-duty plastic column remained, and gouges proved they had been subjected to treatment its designer had never envisaged.

Kai knew that the mutineers had moved the sleds from the original parking site. They would have had to do it manually since Bonnard had hidden the power packs. Kai stood, raking the surrounding area with calculating eyes. There was no telling now how wide a swathe the dead hadrosaurs had made. He was also certain that the mutineers had grossly underestimated the scope of the stampede. Still, the mass of animals would have had to funnel through the narrow rock gorge leading to the compound. The sleds would have been taken to a place reasonably secure, which suggested uphill but nearby. The sleds were weighty, even for the muscles of heavyworlders. And they’d been some what rushed, having hoped to fly the four craft out of the area.

Kai struck off to his left where the heavily vegetated land slanted upward. He looked back toward the compound and saw Tor moving steadily on its search pattern. He wouldn’t be inconveniencing the Thek if he pressed his own search. He rather supposed that Tor would have a time locating the core no matter how efficiently it worked. There was always the possibility that the mutineers had retrieved the object.

He devoutly hoped that they hadn’t also retrieved the sleds. Or spitefully damaged them beyond use. But Kai reasoned the sleds would have been too valuable for wanton destruction. The mutineers would have been positive that they’d catch up with the people they considered inferiors: whom they’d left without any survival equipment. Nor would Paskutti have been easily deterred from an exhaustive search for the missing power packs. Which might well explain the giffs’ behavior yesterday.

Kai almost climbed past the sleds: they were so covered in vine that they looked like a natural rock formation. He tore at the vegetation, cursing as fine thorns ripped his hands. He used his knife then, and he broke a branch from a tree to pry and cut away the obscuring growths.

If only one sled was intact… Units were sealed: Even a heavyworlder would have had to grunt to bash the sturdy plasteel frame and body skin.

He was the one to grunt and sweat now, contending with Ireta’s heavy morning rain, which penetrated the leafy cover so that mud added to his problems: mud and the colonies of insects that had taken refuge in the shelter of vine and sled.

He felt, rather than saw, that the instrument console was intact, and disregarding the myriad of tiny life-forms wriggling from beneath his fingers, found that the sled floor was unbroached and the essential power connectors undamaged.

With a sigh of relief, he leaned warily against a tree trunk only to be brought upright as a spurt of flame angling upward into the misty rain told him that Tor had taken off.

Too stunned to react for a moment, Kai stared as the fog roiled and then covered completely the passage of the Thek vehicle. Half-blind with sweat and apprehension; Kai started to run back to the compound. Without that power pack…

Varian had had one glimpse of Kai, body arched over Tor’s mass, clinging valiantly to the improvised hand-holds. She didn’t envy him the journey. Then the Thek vehicle slowly turned in the cramped space of the cave, proving Tor’s expertise as a pilot. Of course, Tor ought to be expert, considering it was intimate with its source of power and the vehicle no more than a surround. How convenient to be a Thek, she thought, impervious to all the minor ills that beset frail species like her own: long-lived, invulnerable to anything short of a nova. Someone had once told her that Thek created novas to tone up their inner cores. And there’d been that droll story she’d heard in advanced training, that the various planets claimed by the Thek as ‘homes’ were dead worlds covered with immense pyramidal mountains, in conical ranges. Elder Thek never died, they became mountains, too vast to move or be moved. And the asteroid belts common to most Thek systems were actually fragmented Thek who had not with stood the final journey to their chosen resting place.

She peered out between the vines to follow their flight and saw the reaction of the giffs. Those in mid-air seemed to pause, while those who stood preening themselves on the cliffs erupted into sound, bugling and whistling in tones that seemed to Varian both joyous and startled. Although there was no way a golden flier could keep up with a Thek-powered craft those in the air made a valiant effort and were followed by what must have been the entire adult population of the colony.

Varian gasped as a shaft of sunlight penetrated the morning mist and rain. The golden fur of the airborne giffs seemed a sheet of brilliant yellow suspended between cloudy sky and misted earth.

Only then did it occur to Varian that the shape of the Thek’s vehicle with its transparent canopy was vaguely bird-like, with swept-back wings. A further moment’s thought and she glanced at the basically ovoid shape of the shuttle and came to an inescapable conclusion. The giffs had been protecting the cave! They had granted immunity to what they thought was an incubating egg.

Varian burst out laughing. The poor giffs! How long had the “egg” been incubating? However long, it must have confused the giffs. And yet… her respect for the creatures grew. Not only were they food-catchers, grass-weavers and protectors of their young, they could extend those skills to include another species. Very interesting! This would be one for the tapes when she got back to the ARCT-10. Or if.

Varian entered the shuttle, opening the iris just wide enough for her to squeeze through. The one interior light made for an eerie atmosphere. Varian was only too glad to revive Lunzie and Triv. She didn’t fancy a prolonged lonely stay in the shuttle or crouched in the cave. She needed occupation. And reading revival instructions was first on her list.

She gave Lunzie and Triv their initial shots and sat down to wait. She couldn’t give the next dose until their body temperatures had risen closer to normal. She worried about Lunzie. Was there a limit to the number of times one body could undergo cold sleep? Or did it depend on the length of time asleep?

She shook her head, and turned her mind to more productive channels. If Tor had actually bestirred itself to investigate their situation, even if only for the sake of that ancient core, they could eventually expect adequate assistance. Nor had they been planted. Had they been, Tor would not have intervened no matter how eager the Theks were to acquire the core. She hoped that the object gave the Theks a hard time:

ARCT-10’s computer records, which supposedly included much of the stored knowledge of the incredibly ancient Thek communities, had indicated no previous exploration of Ireta. Yet once Portegin had assembled and activated the seismic screen to read the soil and rock analyses of the new cores laid by the three geological teams, faint signals had shown up along the entire continental shelf: signals indicating the presence of cores on a planet reportedly never before explored. Kai and Gaber had unearthed one. Though its signal was weak, it hadn’t differed from the new cores the geologists were planting. It had felt old to Varian. And it was obviously of Thek manufacture. The presence of an ancient network on the continental shelf did explain the absence of mineral deposits; obviously the planet had already been worked. Once the geologists ventured beyond the shelf to the tectonically unstable areas, the cores did what they were designed to do: register massive deposits that the shifting plates of the heaving planet had thrown up from its very active thermal core.

At least, Varian consoled herself, Ireta was interesting to the Theks even if the situation of the humans involved did not appear to concern them. Still, if the stranded victims of the mutiny could find and power up the sleds, they could improve their condition until adequate assistance did arrive.

Varian checked Lunzie and Triv. Nothing seemed to be wrong and their respiration’s were speeding up. Abruptly she decided that she’d better get out of the shuttle for a few moments: she was not constituted to sit still and do nothing.

She wandered out to the cave entrance. Hanging onto a vine, she let her body fall beyond the overhang. Giffs were swirling about. She wondered how far they had pursued the swift Thek. They seemed to be talking the event over for the crested heads turned from one flying mate to another.

How beautiful the golden fliers were! Their bodies touched occasionally, forming brilliant lances of yellow as Ireta’s sun made its morning inspection. She was all admiration for their economy of movement as they back-winged to settle on the cliff. They were not graceful as they waddled to form a loose semicircle. She hung out on the vine, fascinated by what had to be a council of the great giffs. Others emerged from caves to join the nucleus until the top of the palisade was alive with motion, with high-held triangles of giff wings, claw-fingers wriggling in agitation. The noise had become a gabbling bugling sound, curiously harmonious, rather than dissonant. What were they saying to each other?

Varian was so entranced by the spectacle that she didn’t realize how precarious her hold was on the vine until she had almost slipped beyond the reach of the ledge. She got safely back, rubbing hands stiffened by clutching the cumbersome thick vine, torn between a desire to get closer and the wisdom of remaining unseen.

She settled by making herself comfortable at the far left side of the cave mouth, where she had a good view of the sky and cliffs and could still hear the chorus even if she couldn’t see the conclave.

She looked out apprehensively when the bugling ceased and saw a contingent of giffs, nets dangling from their clawed feet, speed off for the morning’s fishing.

She was utterly astounded then, when three giffs broached the vine curtain and, neatly disentangling their wings from the trailing greenery, came to a stop in front of the space shuttle. Their attention was on the shuttle, so they didn’t see her.

Krims! she thought to herself. Then Varian was torn between amusement and sympathy for the obvious consternation of the three giffs. Had they expected to find the space shuttle broken open? A birdlike object had certainly left the cave. But there it was the “egg”, unblemished and certainly intact.

Then Varian noticed that the Middle Giff was taller, its wings a fraction larger, than its two fellows. The smaller ones turned to Middle Giff, their whole attitude querying. They emitted soft chirps and a sound more like a feline purr than a bird noise. Middle Giff aimed its beak tentatively at the shuttle and tapped it lightly. Varian could have sworn it sighed. It resumed its meditative pose while the other crested heads turned respectfully to it.

Varian was seized with an almost uncontrollable desire to stroll nonchalantly up to them and say, “Well, fellows, it’s like this…”

Instead she savored the perplexed tableau and wished that there were some way in which she could explain to her puzzled hosts and protectors. They were noble creatures, elements of dignity were visible even in that moment of acute perplexity. Would they-could they-evolve further? Somehow she couldn’t imagine the Ryxi in a protective role toward another species of avian life. Fortunately, there was no way in which the Ryxi could jeopardize the giffs’ evolution! She smiled to herself, watching the giffs as they continued to debate the puzzle. Middle Giff turned from one sidekick to the other, gurgling softly under their more audible commentaries. Vrl would be furious, Varian thought. Another flying life-form capable of reasoning. Thank Krim that the Ryxi had refused to credit even the little Kai had reported of avian life on Ireta. Ryxi could hold lifelong grudges which, in this instance, suited Varian perfectly, so long as they stayed away from Ireta.

The examining committee waddled to the edge of the cave ledge and dropped off, spreading their wings to catch an updraft. She watched them from behind her screen as they circled and landed among those left on the council rocks. More harmonious noise. Could the musicality of a species’ utterances be an indication of their basic temperament? An interesting notion-harmony equated with rational thought? Discord with basic survival reactions?

She glanced at the sky, squinting as she found the sun. Kai and Tor had been gone a while. At the rate of speed Tor had left the cliffs, the trip back to the old compound would have required a fraction of the time needed to make the journey by sled.

Time! She scurried back to the shuttle and hastily checked her patients. She ought not to have been gone so long, yet she’d no way of measuring time. Lunzie felt warmer and her respiratory rate was quicker. Triv was all right, too. She couldn’t risk leaving them again. She settled down, drawing the thin thermal sheet about her.

Even if Kai found a sled in working order, it would take him some hours to return. To pass time, she carefully peeled and ate another of the fruits, chewing slowly to get the most of its taste and to draw out the task of eating. Mentally she rehearsed phrases of a report she’d make to the Xenobiological Survey on the cooperative tendencies of the golden fliers.

A long sigh nearly lifted Varian from the hard shuttle plasfloor. Lunzie! Yes, the medic’s head had turned and her right hand jumped, her feet twitched. It was time for the restorative. As she prepared Lunzie’s, she looked over at Triv. His head had fallen to one side, his lips parted and a groan issued from deep inside the man. “Lunzie, it’s Varian. Can you hear me?”

Lunzie blinked, trying to focus her eyes. Varian remembered her own attempts and resisted the impulse to smile. Lunzie wouldn’t appreciate humor at the expense of her personal dignity.

“Hnnnnn?”

“It’s Varian, Lunzie. You’ve been in cold sleep. I’m reviving you and Triv.”

“Ohhhhh.”

Varian gave her the second of the two required shots and then turned to give Triv his. She could appreciate their sensations as long-unused nerves and limbs began to respond to mental dictates. Once the second shots had taken effect, Lunzie and Triv were soon sitting up.

“I only hope you took it easy at first,” Lunzie commented to Varian in her usual way.

“Oh yes,” Varian assured her blithely, aware that “easy” in Lunzie’s lexicon probably differed from her own interpretation. “I feel great.”

“So what happened?”

“That Thek, Tor-the one Kai knows-came.”

Lunzie’s eyebrows arched in mild surprise. “Not to our rescue, certainly!”

Varian grinned at the medic, pleased that someone else shared her cynicism about Thek. “It wanted the old core!”

The one Gaber and Kai disinterred.”

“What would it want that for?” Triv asked, his words slurred in his first attempt at speech.

Varian shrugged. “A Thekian reason. But Kai went over with Tor to find it. I hope that wretched thing’s buried nineteen meters down. No, I don’t,” she contradicted herself quickly, “for that would mean we’ve been asleep far too long. At any rate, Kai took along a power pack to unearth a sled for us.”

“If the heavyworlders didn’t wreck ’em,” Lunzie said sourly.

“They wouldn’t do that,” Triv said. “They’d be too sure that they’d locate us, and the power packs.”

“A sled would be a powerful encouragement.” Lunzie looked down at the darker mounds of sleepers. Then she began to manipulate her arms and legs in a Discipline limbering exercise.

“Do I smell fruit?” Triv asked, running his tongue over his lips.

Varian instantly set to peel fruit for Lunzie and Triv. While they ate slowly and appreciatively, Varian related the adventures she and Kai had had, and their conclusion that the heavyworlders had penetrated to the giffs’ territory. With great relish she recounted the visitation of the Elder giffs after Tor had left the cave. Triv was amused, but Lunzie interpreted Varian’s report differently though she offered no comment.

“Can we use the main cave safely?” she asked Varian as she rose stiffly to her feet. “Or are those fliers of yours apt to recon frequently? No matter, I’d rather be out in Ireta’s stink than sit in this morgue.” She gathered up the thermal sheet and stalked to the entrance.

Triv and Varian followed. Once outside, Lunzie regarded the vines for a long moment, her expression betraying nothing of her thoughts. Suddenly she began to sniff, at first tentatively, and then with deeper breaths. “What… the…”

Varian grinned at her consternation. “Yes, I’d noticed, too. We’ve got accustomed to Ireta.”

“Don’t those vines give you any idea how long we’ve slept?” Lunzie demanded.

“I wish my botanical expertise was not limited to edibility and toxicity,” Varian said, not wishing to add that the expedition’s botanist had mutinied. “Tropical growth has a vitality unlike others. Why don’t you limber up more? You could shower with the next rain…”

“Say, Tanegli broke your shoulder…” Lunzie’s strong fingers found the break point in Varian’s shoulder. Her expression was inscrutable. “Reabsorbed! How long ago did Kai leave?” she added in a quick shift of topic.

“Early morning. Before the net giffs left for fishing.” Varian swung a vine beyond the lip of the cave and, squinting against the sun which was burning through the heat haze, decided it must be midafternoon. “He could be back any time now.”

“We’ll hope so. D’you have anything more than fruit? Any protein? I feel an urgent need for something substantial.”

“Well,” Varian began brightly, “we were lucky enough to find hadrosaur nuts…”

“Were you now?” Lunzie’s dry humor had survived cold sleep.

While Varian tried to sell the two on the merits of the pithy nuts, she tried to hide her growing apprehension over Kai’s delay. Kai might ascribe some loyalty to Tor but she couldn’t. It would be just like the creature to find the bloody core and bounce off with its treasure, ignoring Kai’s welfare. Still, Kai would have had to disinter the sleds and check over the console. It could have taken a long time to find the sleds. Her anxiety sharpened her hearing and the giffs’ cries were audible. Without explanation to Triv and Lunzie, she made a sudden running leap to a vine, swinging out to see what alarmed them. The haze had thickened but the muffled whine of a sled was music to her ears.

“He’s back. He’s back,” she cried as she ran to the vines anchored to the shuttle and began shinnying up. She was just pulling herself onto the cliff when the blunt snout of the two-man vehicle emerged from the obscuring haze and wobbled erratically in her direction.

Krims! Was the thing damaged. “Lunzie! Triv! Get up here!”

What was Kai attempting? The sled angled down, not as if he was attempting to circle and land in the cave. The flight angle was wrong. What was he doing? Reminding the giffs of the first peaceful visit they’d had from humans? No, not with the sled swinging like that. Glare kept her from making out the pilot behind the canopy. The giffs were alarmed, too, taking to the air in flocks. Some began to circle to investigate. The bow of the sled dipped again and, as Varian watched from the cliff edge, her heart in her throat, its forward motion was braked so fast that the vehicle fell rather than descended, bumping along the vines until she was afraid that momentum would carry it over the cliff. She even put out her hand in an unconscious gesture. With a final grind, the nose of the sled caught on the vines and it slowed to a halt. Then she could see that Kai was slumped over the console.

Forgetting any caution for the circling giffs, she clambered over the edge and reached the sled just as the first of the giffs landed. She eyed the creature over the stained and scratched canopy. The giff reared back, its wings half extended, the wing talons spread but, as she caught her breath and braced herself for an assault, a long warbling note restrained the giff. The creature’s talons closed and its wings relaxed slightly.

She had time, then, Varian thought, to get to Kai. She pressed the canopy release and, once the plasglas had cracked open, she pushed to speed the retraction.

“Kai! Kai!”

“Kaaaiiiii! Kaaaaiiiii!” The giffs mimicked her as more landed and ranged themselves on either side of the first one.

At that moment, Kai moaned. Ignoring the giffs, Varian bent into the sled to tend to his body slumped over the console. A putrid stench now rose from the opened cockpit. Shuddering in revulsion, she hauled Kai upright. And shuddered again, mastering the wave of nausea that swept her. Kai’s face was a mass of blood. What was left of his overall was matted against his bloodied flesh. The whole front of him was a bloody mess.

“LUNZIE! TRIV! HELP!” She screeched over her shoulder.

“UNNNNZZZZI IVVVVELLLLL.” The giffs picked up the sounds.

“Shut up! I don’t need a chorus!” Varian yelled at them to relieve the horror that she experienced looking down at her co-leader. He moaned again.

Her fingers hunted for the pulse against the carotid artery. Slow, strong and regular. Strange. No, he’d been exerting Discipline. How else could he have returned to the cliffs in his condition.

Had Lunzie heard her? She glanced warily up at the giffs and was astonished to see that every head was turned away and the bodies seemed to be withdrawing from the sled. They looked, for all the world, as if they were avoiding an unpleasant smell. And so they were, for the stench still rose from the sled, and mostly from Kai. Could she risk leaving him and going to the cliff edge to hurry help.

“We’re coming!” Triv’s shout finally encouraged her.

She bent to look more closely at Kai’s wounds. He appeared to have been attacked by something or something’s that sucked blood for as she eased a shred of his coverall from his chest, she saw the pattern of pin point marks on his skin, each with its own jewel like tear drop of blood. And that awful stink! Worse than anything that Ireta had inflicted on her before except, she realized now, that she remembered that frightful odor. It was not easy to forget: oily, marine, and utterly disgusting!

“Is it safe to approach?” Triv asked, poking his head over the cliff edge.

“It hardly matters, does it?” Lunzie replied, heaving herself onto the vine-covered surface.

“They’re not aggressive now,” Varian said in a well-projected voice, keeping her tone sweet. “I’d just move slowly.”

“My intention, I assure you. How bad is Kai?”

“He’s unconscious now. Must have Disciplined himself to get back.

He seems to have run into a bloodsucker.”

“Faugh!” Lunzie’s face wrinkled in distaste and she pinched her nostrils. “What’s that smell?”

“Kai.”

“Your fliers don’t seem to like the smell any more than we do,”

Triv remarked.

“Let’s get him out of the sled while they’re snooting the wind,” Lunzie said. “I really can’t see enough through the blood.

Triv and Varian slipped into the sled to hoist out the unconscious geologist. Triv grimaced at muscles slow to respond to his commands as they guided the limp body out to Lunzie.

“That stink would suffocate a man,” Triv remarked, taking deep gulps of fresher air. “Oh ho, what’s wrong here?” He bent back inside the sled. “Did he drop this thing? Every malfunction light on the control panel is lit.”

“Krims! I was hoping we could fly him down to the cave in the sled,” Varian said.

“I wouldn’t advise it until I can get behind the control panel.”

Triv flicked off the power and closed the canopy.

Lunzie deftly peeled away the tatters of the coverall to disclose the hundreds of tiny punctures that had pierced Kai’s skin, each one filled with blood. Varian removed the trouser legs.

“Even his boots are perforated,” she told Lunzie. “I don’t remember telltagging anything that could do this.”

“You think he’d smell it coming,” was Lunzie’s dour comment.

“Watch it, girls, we’ve got company. Hey…”

At Triv’s warning, Lunzie and Varian looked up and received a giff-borne shower in the face as a flight of giffs skimmed over them and each emptied its filled throat pouch on the little group. Most of the unexpected drenching fell on Kai’s exposed body, leaving it clean of blood momentarily.

“Well, what d’you make of that?” demanded Triv. “Ah there’s more coming! No, they’ve got leaves!”

As deftly as the shower had been delivered, the thick green leaves dropped about Kai.

“What are they trying to tell us, Varian?” Lunzie wanted to know.

“They know that stink, Lunzie. They could know what attacked him.

They must be trying to help us.”

“They’d attack with claw and wing,” Triv said thoughtfully, “not water and leaves.”

“But they did attack you and Kai…” Lunzie began.

“This time they saw us all come from the cave.” Varian seized one of the leaves and held it up to the giffs remaining beyond the sled. “What do I do with it?”

Lunzie picked up a leaf, crushing the pulpy tip in her fingers, sniffing and sneezing at the odor of the sap.

“One thing sure, it smells a lot better than he does. A neutralizer?”

“Varian! That big one…” Triv pointed and they looked at the largest of the giffs, who could have been the Middle Giff of the cave inspection, crushing a leaf in its talon and smearing it on its chest fur.

“What might work on giffs, might not work on us, but I’ve nothing else…” Lunzie muttered and tentatively squeezed sap over the oozing punctures on Kai’s shoulder. “Well, what d’you know? It’s a styptic! Quick, both of you, get to work. Even if the leaves only stop the bleeding, it’s something!” She tasted the sap then. “Oooo. Bitter, bitter. Alum like. Good. Now if it could also neutralize-whatever bit Kai is toxic as all… Hell!”

As if taking due note of Kai’s condition, Ireta’s unpredictable rain started to fall in drops big enough to hurt.

“Wouldn’t you just know?” Varian cried in disgust, trying to shelter Kai’s legs with her body as Lunzie and Triv leaned across his torso.

In moments Kai’s hair was afloat in a puddle and the sap was being washed from those portions of his body which the concerted efforts of his friends could not shield.

“We’ve got to get him out of this. Are you sure we can’t risk the sled?” Lunzie asked urgently.

Triv splashed to the vehicle and the women could hear him cursing, heard him slamming the plasglas canopy shut.

“Every damned red light is on. Those sleds are supposed to be impervious… We got company again…”

“What we don’t need are spectators. C’mon, Varian, Triv. We’ve got to get him down to the cave before he drowns.”

“I’ll just hoist him…” Triv said, grabbing Kai by the arm and staggering as he attempted to haul the unconscious man to his shoulder. “What…”

Varian grabbed to support the staggering Triv while Lunzie caught Kai.

“You’re both just out of cold sleep,” Varian said with some disgust. “Neither of you has regained any useful strength yet.”

In a joint effort they carried Kai to the edge of the cliff.

“I don’t like this,” Lunzie muttered to herself as Varian located an untethered vine and hauled it up. “None of us is up to this sort of effort.” She bent to protect Kai from the rain.

“Varian,” Triv’s voice was taut with alarm. “The giffs are surrounding us. Are they trying to push us off the cliff?” His voice rose as he planted himself in front of Lunzie and Kai.

Varian turned, rising from her crouch. With a sense of relief she thought she recognized Middle Giff as it took a forward step. Then it inclined its head to her and gestured one wing in as courtly a motion as any she’d ever seen from the mincing Ryxi. The wing tip pointed over the edge of the cliff. It moved to indicate Kai. Then both wings were spread, undulating to suggest flight. The huge raindrops beat against the wing surface, beading as the oil of the fur kept the water from penetrating.

“Does the giff mean what I think it means?” Triv asked Varian.

“If it does, it’s a miracle.”

“Now, wait a minute, Varian,” Lunzie interposed, “I’m not about to surrender Kai to them.”

“What choice have we? Dropping him into the sea because we haven’t the strength to lower him into the cave? They’ve already helped us with the water and the leaves. They are used to flying burdens with the fish nets, working as a team. If they’re smart enough to see we’ve got a problem in getting Kai into shelter, they’ve also got a solution. The rain’s getting heavier and the wind’s making up.” Varian had to brace herself. “We’ve no other option.”

Lunzie dashed soaking hair from her face, staring up at Varian. Then a gust of wind buffeted the trio of humans. Lunzie capitulated, throwing up one hand in acceptance of their desperate situation. “You and Triv go on down. Part the vines and guide the giffs in.”

With a final fierce look at the xenobiologist, Lunzie surrendered Kai’s limp body to Varian. She took the vine that Triv indicated and slid out of sight over the cliff edge. Triv followed her. Suddenly the wind ceased its assault on her body and Varian realized that she was surrounded by wet giff legs. Giff claws wrapped gently about Kai’s ankles and picked up his limp arms by the wrists. Varian stepped back, heart in her mouth.

Then Kai was hanging in the air and more giffs found holds on him. For one horrified moment, Varian wondered if they were going to fly him up to one of their caves. But they lifted him well above the cliff, then maneuvered slowly out over the water and slowly began to descend. Could she be hearing the creak of overloaded bones in the storm winds? She could certainly see the effort in the straining pinions. Varian shook herself out of her paralysis and, finding the vine which Lunzie had used, began to slide down it. She slipped a bit on the rain-slick vine and was forced to abandon her scrutiny of Kai’s descent to insure her own. Then she saw Lunzie and Triv holding back the thick vines so that the giffs could enter. Before her feet touched the cave’s floor, Kai was safely deposited. Having delivered their burden, the giffs awkwardly backed away. Lunzie and Triv busily anointed the myriad punctures on his body, which were once again oozing droplets of blood.

“He’s all right?” Varian asked Lunzie.

“Took no harm at all. I don’t think they so much as bruised him. And this sap is definitely styptic.”

Reassured, Varian turned to the giffs. The two species regarded each other over the injured man. It wasn’t as if she could flap her hand at them, like a flock of ordinary birds, and shoo them away, nor did Varian wish to treat them so peremptorily for they had saved Kai twice already. In working with alien species, Varian had discovered that the sincerity of her intentions could be communicated by voice, even if the words were unintelligible to the hearer. She spread her arms wide, palms up, and imitated the wing gesture of Middle Giff.

“I don’t know how to express our thanks and appreciation for your assistance, golden fliers,” she said, deepening her voice and imbuing it with the very genuine gratitude she felt. We could not have borne him so safely nor so quickly to shelter. Thank you, too, for the leaves.” Varian pointed to Lunzie and Triv as they smeared Kai’s wounds. “Thank you for all your assistance. We hope to remain on such good terms with you. Thank you.”

“From all of us to all of you,” murmured Lunzie. Then she smiled up at the giffs nearest her, holding up the leaf she was crushing and smiling more broadly. Varian could almost forgive her her dark humor.

A hum rose from the giffs and their orange eyes blinked rapidly.

“While you’re in rapport with ’em, ask for more leaves. Unless you know where we can find ’em.”

A slightly surprised chirp and the agitation of the vine screen brought their attention to the cave entrance. A group of smaller giffs entered, their wing talons clutching bundles of the leaves.

“Ask and you shall receive, oh skeptic,” Triv muttered as the smaller giffs hovered, venturing inside the cave only far enough to drop their burdens safely to the floor. Then Middle Giff made a peremptory sound, a call more than a chirp, and all the giffs lurched to the mouth of the cave. To Varian, they appeared to fall off the edge. Then she saw them, beating strongly upwards and out of sight.

“Lunzie…” she began, turning to deliver a few choice words to the medic but Kai moaned, his voice rising to a feverish mumble. He thrashed about until Triv grabbed him by the arms and held him down.

“Get that thermal blanket Varian. Whatever Discipline he was exerting has lapsed. Yes,” and Lunzie laid her hand on his forehead and then his cheeks, “fever’s rising. At least fever indicates the body is fighting the toxemia.” She rummaged in her pouch for a moment. “Muhlah! I don’t have so much as an antibiotic. He’s going to have to do it the hard way. Take off the other boot, Triv, will you? And Varian, you pull off what’s left of his clothes while I hold him up. Hmmm…” Lunzie paused to inspect Kai’s chest. “The sap is closing the punctures. If only I had something… That Thek didn’t say anything about ARCT-10, did it?”

“Only that the beacon hadn’t been stripped yet”

“I shouldn’t have asked. Is there any more of that succulent fruit, Varian? I’m still dehydrated and, if we could dilute some juice-with freshwater, Kai might take it. He’s going to need all the liquid we can get down him to combat the toxin.”

Triv collected rain water by holding a pail outside the vines to catch the torrential downpour. Varian squeezed juice until she had exhausted the supply. They all ate the pulp. At regular intervals, the diluted juice was dripped down Kai’s throat. It seemed to ease his restlessness. Often he would lick his lips and frown during the fever dreams, as if searching for soothing moisture.

“Not on uncommon fever pastime,” Lunzie assured them. “It’s when they won’t swallow, you’ve got problems.”

By sunset Kai’s fever had reached a new high and their supply of leaves was almost gone. Though most of the punctures had closed, the sap seemed to ease his feverishness but Lunzie hoped they could get more to last through the night. So Varian climbed to the cliff top, hoping there would be a giff she could signal to. She sighed with relief when she found a large pile of leaves neatly anchored to the vines by a stout twist of grass. Fruit was windlocked in an intersection of thick vine tendrils.

“Not so stupid our fine furry friends,” she said, elated and reassured, as she proudly displayed the leaves and fruit to Lunzie and Triv.

“I’ve been on worlds where there were other interpretations to such overtures,” Lunzie replied sardonically.

“Yes, I appreciate that, Lunzie. Propiation of unknown gods, fattening for the kill, ceremonial poisonings…” Varian dismissed such considerations with a wave of her hand. “To an experienced hand like you, I must seem incredibly naive, but then I’ve generally dealt with animals which are pretty straight forward in their reactions. I really feel sorry for you, having to cope with that devious and subtle predator-man.” She spoke in an even tone but she held Lunzie’s gaze in a steady stare. “My experience tells me to trust the giff, for they’ve shown us no harm-”

“Once we emerged from this cave. Actually, I cannot help comparing your fliers with the Ryxi.”

“There’s no comparison-”

“There is if you are trying to suggest the golden fliers remembered man-us,” and Lunzie dug a thumb into her chest bone, “when you don’t even know their life span, and we don’t know how long we were in cold sleep.”

“The giffs did remember: that intruders from the gap were trouble and that those in the cave were to be protected. They do protect the young of their own species. I just count us very lucky indeed that that instinct mapped onto us.”

“I’d hate to think that this was a tradition handed down from elder to hatchling,” Triv remarked. “What sort of a life span would you project for the giffs, Varian?”

As Varian did not wish to argue with Lunzie, she seized on Triv’s calm question gratefully.

“The Ryxi are the only comparable species of a similar size exhibiting the same intelligence,” she ignored Lunzie’s snort of disgust, “and their life span is tied up with their libido. The males tend to kill their opponents off in mating duels. Ryxi females live six or seven decades. Like the giffs they don’t seem to have any predators. Of course, I don’t know what parasites they might be susceptible to. Then, there’s the leech thing. If the giffs knew what topical treatment to supply for those puncture wounds, they must be vulnerable to it. However, let’s give the giffs a life span similar to the Ryxi’s…”

“They don’t like comparisons-” Lunzie remarked. “Say, 60 to 70 years Standard.”

“We could have slept sixty to seventy years, or six hundred. You’d have thought Kai would insist on knowing how long he’d slept.”

“You know that Thek don’t reckon time in our measurements. Even if Kai had asked, would he have received a comprehensible answer.”

Triv regarded Lunzie’s sour expression with a bemused smile on his face. “You do dislike the Thek, don’t you?”

“I would dislike any species that set itself up as an infallible authority on anything and everything.” A sharp gesture of Lunzie’s arm dismissed the noble Thek with no courtesy. “I don’t trust ’em. And this,” her hand lowered toward Kai, feverishly twisting his head and trying to free his arms from the restraint of the sheet, “is one immediate reason why.”

“We’ve been taught to respect and revere them,” Triv began.

Lunzie snorted. “Typical xenob training. You can’t help it, but you can learn from mistakes!”

Kai began to thresh in earnest, loosening the cocoon they had wrapped about him.

“Sap time!” Lunzie said, reaching for the leaves. “This medication is effective for an hour and a half; I wish I knew if there were side effects to prolonged application. I wish I had something to work with…” Lunzie’s tone was fierce but her hands were gentle in their ministrations.

“What do you need?” Varian asked quietly.

“The small microscope plus the metal medicine container that Tanegli made off with!”

“I know the console was blinking its red head off but none of the warning lights was steady,” Varian said. “I’ll take a look tomorrow. Portegin had enough tools to make that homing beacon, and I’m a fair mechanic when pushed. A few matrices may just have loosened in that hard landing. I remember the coordinates of all the camps… as if it were yesterday…” Varian caught Lunzie’s eyes and laughed. Lunzie’s gaze was cynical. “Well, the last thing the heavyworlders would be expecting is a raid by one of us.”

“Do the bastards good to get shaken out of their sagging skins,” the physician said. “If any of the original ones are still alive.”

“A bit daunting to think they might all be safely in their graves, or whatever they do,” said Triv, “and us alive and kicking.”

“You get used to it,” Lunzie said sourly.

“What?” asked Varian. “The kicking or still being alive when everyone else you know has long since been dead?” With those words Varian faced that possibility for the first time since she had awakened.

“Both,” was Lunzie’s cryptic reply.

“I’ll have a go at fixing the sled first light tomorrow.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Triv said.

“Then you,” and Lunzie pointed at Triv, “can take first watch with Kai tonight.” She was wringing out another cloth to place on Kai’s forehead. “I’m tired.”

Varian gave the physician a searching look. Yes, Lunzie was tired, of many things. Tired, resigned, but not defeated.

“Wake me for the next watch, Triv.” Varian hauled the thermal blanket over her shoulders and was asleep almost before she could pillow her head on her arm.

Varian woke Lunzie at first light when Kai’s temperature began to rise.

“That’s the way of fevers,” Lunzie told her, checking her patient. “Some of the punctures are completely closed. That’s good.” Lunzie offered Kai juice which he thirstily gulped. “That’s good, too.”

Varian went over to Triv and was about to wake him when Lunzie intervened.

“Can you manage without him? He needs more rest than he’ll let on.”

“I’ll call if I need help, then.” Varian equipped herself with Portegin’s few tools and shinnied up the vine to the cliff top.

First she had to empty the sled of the rainwater that had accumulated even in the brief time the canopy had been opened. That gave her a chance to examine the under-carriage. Although there were a few scratches from Kai’s rough landing, there were no fracture lines on the ceramic. As she righted the sled, she noticed several small feathers. She picked them up, smoothed them and held them out to the fresh drawn breeze to dry. They couldn’t be from giffs, which were furred, and, once dry enough to show color, they were a greenish blue. The downy portion fluffed while the top of the quills remained rigid, too thick with oil to have suffered damage from their immersion. Carefully putting them in a breast pocket, Varian turned to the business at hand.

She switched on the power, and the blinking lights reappeared. The fault might be just in the console panel, Varian thought, for despite her confident claim to Lunzie, she wasn’t a trained mechanic. If the sled’s malfunction involved circuit or matrix adjustments, she would be unable to cope. Then they would have to wake Portegin. But the units were built to withstand a good deal of rough usage as well as long periods of idleness, stored in the Exploratory Vessel, so they had been designed to survive under just the circumstances that then prevailed.

Fortunately the wind was blowing over her right shoulder as she broke the console seal. She had also lifted the panel upward so her face was shielded. Otherwise the mold that had penetrated and thrived in the console interior would have covered her face. Instinctively she had held her breath and ducked away at her first sight of the purple mass. She lowered the console cover only far enough to watch the wind blow away the top layers.

Using one collar flap as an improvised mask, she tilted the sled into the wind, letting it dislodge additional layers until, at last, the outlines of the matrix panels were visible though covered with a soft purple fuzz. Even the color looked dangerous to her.

Then she took heart because, if the mold had seeped through the console seals, it could also cause minute circuit breakage. If she could remove the remaining stuff… Varian laid aside the panel but kept the collar flap across her mouth and nose as she bent to examine the slotted matrices. She delicately ran one of Portegin’s tools along the edge of the matrix frame, the fuzz gathering on the shaft of the instrument, leaving the frame edge clean. She flicked the mess off the blade and cleaned the next portion. When she had cleared the accessible portions of the panel, she shook out Portegin’s kit to find something that could reach into crannies and corners. If she left any of that mold inside, it would undoubtedly proliferate again. She needed a long-handled, fine-bristled brush which was patently not among Portegin’s effects.

Then she recalled the greenish blue plumage. “Fine feathered friends as well as furry ones,” she cried.

Nothing could have been more suitable and she set about dusting and cleaning, always careful not to inhale any of the particles she flicked away. The quill was in fact superior to a brush, bending to fit into crevices and corners which would have defeated a stiff-handled tool.

When Varian could see no more purple fuzz anywhere, she replaced the console cover and sealed it, for whatever that action was worth. Switching the power back on, she was delighted to see that all but one of the malfunction lights were off. She gave the console a solid thump with her fist and the last one blinked out.

She finished just as the first of the day’s rain squalls thundered across the inland sea. As she hurriedly closed the canopy, she noticed that she’d had three spectators. Middle Giff was among them, towering above his sidekicks. They regarded her with an unwavering orange gaze.

“And good morning to you.” She bowed solemnly. “I’ve cleaned the console and the sled appears to be operative again. I’m going down for a while but I’ll be back.” Varian held the firm opinion that all species liked to be noticed, whether or not the language could be understood. From the way the giffs cocked their heads attentively, they were certainly hearing the sounds she made. Keeping her tone cheerful, Varian went on. “I’m sure you couldn’t care less, but these blue-green feathers are superior mold dusters. Friends of yours?” She held up one feather and she was certain that Middle Giff leaned forward to peer at it. “Couldn’t have fixed the sled without it.” She tucked Portegin’s tool kit into her belt and then walked to the edge of the cliff, to slide down the vine. “See you later.”

“See who later?” demanded Lunzie.

“The giffs.”

Lunzie eyed her skeptically. “And the sled?”

“Nothing but a case of purple mold.”

“You didn’t inhale any of it?”

“I’ve more sense than that. A feather, opportunely deposited in the sled,” and Varian displayed it once again, “cleaned what the wind didn’t.

Sled’s all systems green. How’s Kai?”

“The same.” Lunzie stretched and pulled at stiff shoulder muscles. “I’ll wake Triv when I have to. We got another delivery while you were out.” Lunzie indicated the pile of leaves and fruit. “Apparently they have decided we need these,” and she pushed at the hadrosaurus nuts with a sour expression on her face.

“They don’t taste like much-”

“Like so much bumwad-”

“But they are full of protein.”

“I’ll put them through the synthesizer. Anything would improve their taste-or, should I say, lack of it?”

“I’ll have a look round the secondary campsites. With out sleds, I don’t think the heavyworlders would have had enough mobility to spread out-”

“But then, we don’t know how long we’ve been asleep, or how inventive and resourceful they were.”

“True.” Varian had no great opinion of the abilities of the heavyworlders to reshape the local environment. “But I just might get an indication of elapsed time.”

“They might even all be dead!” Hope was evident in Lunzie’s voice.

“See you later.”

“Take care, Varian.”

When Varian emerged on the cliff top, the morning winds had picked up. The Three had left their perch above the sled, but the sky was well populated by the graceful creatures, soaring on thermal updrafts or gliding in to land on their cave ledges during the respite from squall and rain. Varian was aware that her every action was being observed as she settled in the pilot’s seat. She felt slightly self-conscious as she closed the canopy and took off directly into the prevailing wind. When she had circled back over the cliff, she realized that the opening to the cavern was totally obscured by the vines. Small wonder the heavyworlders had not found them.

Despite the airing the sled had received, the taint of that nauseating odor remained. Varian switched the air circulator to high without much effect. The sled did handle properly, she was relieved to note, but she kept a close check on the panel lights and the readout, visually estimating her altitude and her direction against the sun.

Those concerns kept Varian from noticing her escort until she was some distance from the cliffs. At first she thought that the three giffs just happened to be flying in her general direction. Then she couldn’t ignore the fact that they were discreetly pacing the sled; curiosity or protection? Either way, their action was further evidence of intelligence. Serve those arrogant Ryxi right, Varian thought, to have another winged sentient emerge in the same solar system as their new colony.

When she began to recognize the landmarks close to the landing site and the scene of the stampede, she wondered if any of the animals they had originally tagged were still alive. She flipped on the telltagger. Of course, since she’d not had time to estimate the life expectancy of the various species she had tagged, this could well be another exercise in futility, but it was worth a try. Immediately the sensitive instrument registered movement as well as significant animal warmth but no blurp indicating tagged life-forms. Just then Varian shot across the end of a long swath of cleared and trampled ground. She had a fleeting glimpse of blunt heads poking into tree tops, long-neck herbivores on their ceaseless quest for forage sufficient to keep life in their ponderous bodies.

If the telltagger had purred even once to indicate the presence of the indelible paint that had been used to mark the beasts, she would have been tempted to turn back and identify the creatures.

Varian continued toward the original compound. Whatever had attacked Kai might still be in the vicinity, looking for more blood. She shuddered with revulsion. Although Lunzie’s dour assessment of the Thek motive was disturbing, Varian preferred to believe that the Thek had left before Kai was attacked. Thek might not have to indulge in defensive tactics because no intelligent species would dare attack them. To primitive predators of limited sense, the Thek was just so much rock, with no scent, and such infrequent motion to make it unlikely as prey. No one could accuse the Thek of being emotional nor of becoming involved with any non-Thek individuals though they were devoted to their own Elders. On the other hand, Varian mused, Tor had known Kai’s family for several generations. Surely some conscience would have prompted the Thek to assist Kai if it had observed him in difficulties.

She had to concede that Tor had only awakened Kai because it needed him to assist in recovering the old core. Even if that were its entire motive, the secondary benefit had been Kai’s awakening, then hers, and the acquisition of a sled which at least gave the stranded explorers mobility. Varian wasn’t certain how much of an advantage that would prove. When she arrived near the heavyworlders, she’d have to take precautions to prevent their seizing the sled. Krims! If she and Kai had only had a little more warning before that mutiny had erupted, they could have Disciplined against it.

Or could they? She grinned to herself. Four Disciples in full control of their inner resources were still no match for six heavyworlders, unless they had the advantage of surprise. The heavyworlders had had that. Nor could the four Disciples have retreated strategically for that would have given the mutineers hostages of the most vulnerable members of the expedition.

Varian circled the old compound and quickly spotted the small cavity toward the rear of the compound, well away from the site of the old geological dome which had housed the core. The Thek had had a long search. The old cylinder of the core had probably been kicked about in the stampede before being buried beneath layers of dead beasts. Succeeding years would have seen it planted deeper in dust and sand. How much dust would accumulate in the amphitheater in a year? How many years? How many years!

Deliberately Varian censured her thoughts and swung the sled about. Immediately she saw the broken trees where Kai must have blasted skyward in the sled. She tightened her circle to land deftly in that opening, all the time listening to the telltagger for any evidence of life in the area. Silence. So she opened the canopy. The other vehicles were partially exposed by the removal of the one she was using and Kai’s efforts to clear the overgrowth. With any luck, all could be retrieved and made useful again. With creatures abroad like the one that had attacked Kai, they had better travel by air whenever feasible. Oh, for the comforting presence of a stunner in her holster!

For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine which of the life-forms she’d observed before the mutiny could have mangled Kai in that fashion. She gave the weed-covered sleds a kick which dislodged any number of insects and stepped nimbly out of their senseless flight. None of them looked like a leech.

She returned to the sled and took off, circling above the compound, gradually widening the spiral upward while the telltagger chortled. There seemed no point in remaining there. She turned her sled northeast, noting that her aerial guardians had resumed their discreet cover.

Oddly reassured Varian smiled to herself, a smile that faded as she began to examine her direction. Yet she felt reasonably certain that the mutineers must have remained at the northeast camp. They had spent their “rest day” there, and it was also reasonable to assume that they had hidden the supplies they’d synthesized nearby. Bakkun had initiated the mutiny from the northeast, not the southwestern camp built for Dimenon and Margit. Furthermore, the hunting in the northeast was known to be good.

The camp so briefly occupied by Portegin and Aulia had been located on one of the sawn-off bluffs that volcanic forces had pushed up in the area, like immense foot rests or stepping stones. A narrow trail to the summit prevented attack by all but small agile creatures. Because of the presence of Tyrannosaurus rex, originally named fang-face by Varian, and the voracious grazers, the small life-forms which had remained in the vast plains area were timid or nocturnal. The one would have stayed away from unknown scents and activities, the other would be warded off by the simplest of shock gates, even if the main force field had to be turned off to conserve power. As the force fields had a usable life of three to four Standard years, the presence or absence of them might give Varian some idea of time elapsed.

However, as the bluff stood prominently above grasslands, with no convenient clumps of vegetation or trees in which to hide either herself or the precious sled, gaining access to the summit, or flying close enough to be identified provided her with an additional hazard. Weaponless, she didn’t fancy being on foot for long on the plains unless the heavyworlders had driven both predator and grazer away.

If the mutineers were obviously in residence, she was loathe to announce their reemergence.

As she neared the location, she switched on the telltagger which had become an irritant with its constant buzz and its distressing inability to purr the presence of tagged specimens.

She saw the dusty cloud, subdued quickly the surge of remembered fear and reinforced the support of Discipline which would prevent the distraction of unnecessary emotional responses.

She also saw, but dispassionately now, the bobbing black line at the base of the dust which meant stampeding animals. She pulled her sled upward, gaining altitude to see beyond the dust, and activated the forward-screen magnification. As they passed over the cloud, the telltagger spat furiously, vibrating in its brackets. Suddenly it’s activity ceased and Varian could see beyond the obscuring dust. The monumental hulk of the predator, fang-face, once termed Tyrannosaurus rex, thunder lizard. Thunderous it was, but not chasing the stupidly fleeing herbivores. Instead, a small insignificant creature was running before fang-face with a speed that startled Varian. She increased magnification, and, despite Discipline, gasped in astonishment.

A man, a young man with a superb physique, his long, heavily thewed legs pumping in an incredible stride, was out distancing the awkward but tenacious fang-face. The man appeared to be heading toward one of the up thrust bluffs, but he had a long way to go to reach its safety. From the exertion evident in straining cords of his neck, the sweat pouring from his face, and the visible laboring of his chest and ribs, he did not have the distance in him.

Varian took a second, longer look at fang-face, wondering why the creature had eschewed the more succulent herbivores for a mere mouthful of man-and saw why. A thick lance was lodged under the beast’s right eye. Just short of a fatal thrust, it wobbled up and down, providing the wounded pursuer with a smarting reminder of revenge. Occasionally, snarling in pain, it batted at the lance but railed to move it. Varian wondered what sort of point the hunter had used, and marveled at the strength which must have been at the back of a thrust that had placed the point so deeply in the beast’s eye socket.

The runner had to be a descendant of the mutineers: he’d the build, if not the overdeveloped musculature of someone raised on a heavy gravity planet. He’d made a very clever throw. Varian might object, as a xenob, about causing injury to any creature, but clearly she had to rescue the young hunter. He was quite the most superb young man she had ever seen.

Unfortunately she had no equipment on the sled to effect an air rescue. Not even a vine. She could hover just above the surface and coax him into the craft, but the speed of the thunder lizard was daunting. If he demurred… Why should he? Surely his parents-grandparents? great-grandparents?-must have passed on some version of their origins. Airborne vehicles would not frighten him out of his wits. On the other hand, any man who would take on a fang-face single-handed, would not easily be frightened, even of something of which he had had no previous experience.

She wheeled the sled to come up behind him, matching its speed to his phenomenal running stride.

“Climb aboard. Quickly!” she shouted as she hit the canopy release.

His powerful stride faltered and he nearly fell. But, instead of altering his course to come alongside, he spurted off at a tangent.

“Do you want to be eaten by that monster?” She didn’t know if he failed to understand her or thought her some new menace. Surely the language couldn’t have mutated in a few generations. Or was it more than a “few?” She tried again to bridge the distance and again he swerved.

“Leave me!” he managed to shout, the effort to speak and keep up his pace visibly slowing him.

Varian raised the sled above him and reduced speed, trying to understand his startling reluctance to be rescued.

The runner appeared mature, surely in his third decade, though the exertion in his face might just make him appear older. He’ll never make it to the bloody bluff, Varian decided with the detachment of her Disciplined state. So, let him pursue his goal or, rather, be pursued to his own purpose. She could make a timely intervention if it was required.

The fang-face had obviously never seen an air sled, or its brain could not register more than one nuisance at a time, for as Varian swung in its direction, it paid her no heed. Passing over it, Varian took note that the lance near its eye was not its only injury. Blood was pumping from several wounds in such quantities that Varian wondered how much more it could lose before collapsing. She circled just as the wounded animal staggered for the first time, roaring loudly. There was no doubt in her mind that the creature was weakening. She set the sled above and slightly behind fang-face, ready to intervene if the man had overestimated his ability to out last his victim.

She had time to notice details of the runner on the screen. He wore little, mainly what appeared to be scraped hide covering his loins. Stout hide footwear was lashed tightly up to the knee of each leg. He wore a broad belt that Varian would swear had been part of a lift-belt unit once, from which several large knives and a pouch hung, flapping against the runner’s legs. A tube was secured across his back, but she couldn’t guess its function. In one hand he clutched a small crossbow, certainly a good weapon for piercing the hide and bone of most of the monsters that walked Ireta.

Varian reminded herself that she was not there to cater to the foibles of a young man being chased by a well-provoked carnivore. It also struck her forcibly that if he was reduced to crossbow and lance, she might be wasting her time in trying to find the mutineers’ base. The microscope and other items which Lunzie needed had probably perished from neglect if this young man represented the present level of the survivors’ life-style.

Three things happened at the same time: she decided to swoop down and pick him up willy-nilly; the thunder lizard let out a gasping roar and fell forward, plowing a furrow with its muzzle and chest, tried to rise and collapsed limply. The young man looked back over his shoulder and began to circle, still at considerable speed as he made sure the creature was lifeless.

Maintaining Discipline for immediate use, Varian landed the sled at a discreet distance from the bulk of the dead predator. She was a sprinter and knew that she could reach her vehicle before the extraordinary young man could catch her.

When she reached him, he was tugging at the deeply lodged spear. Inhaling deeply, Varian casually laid one hand beyond his on the shaft and exerted her disciplined resource. The spear came away so fast that the young man, unprepared for the quality of assistance, staggered backward, leaving Varian with the spear. She examined its tip, Discipline overriding her natural repugnance for bloody objects. She wiped the point on the beast’s hide, dislodging some of the myriad parasites and examined the spear head. The metal had been tempered and fashioned with a ring of barbs, one reason the monster had been unable to dislodge it. Varian was amazed that she had. Of course, flesh and bone had come away, too. Already swarms of insects descended on the corpse.

“Can you understand me if I speak slowly?” Varian asked, turning to confront the young giant. He was staring from her to the spear she had removed so effortlessly. He extended his hand to reclaim the spear. “I assume you do not understand me.”

“Yes, I do. I’d like my spear back.” When she relinquished it, he examined the barbed tip carefully. Satisfied, he turned his attention to her. Varian found those proud clear eyes very disconcerting and she was glad of the shield of Discipline. “These take time to forge and you might have damaged the barbs. You don’t look as if you had that much strength in you.”

Varian shrugged diffidently. So Bakkun and the others had progressed beyond tree limbs as weapons.

“I’m not considered particularly strong,” she said, knowing that such a first impression might be valuable. “Are you one of the survivors of the ARCT-10’s exploratory group? Frankly, after a quick pass over this world, we didn’t expect to find anyone alive. Your appearance… and competence… are a surprise.”

“So is yours!” There was a faint hint of wry amusement and a reticence in his voice. “I am called Aygar.”

“And I, Rianav,” she said, quickly scrambling her name. “Why didn’t your group remain at the expedition’s site of record?”

His look was definitely quizzical. “Why didn’t you home in on our beacon?”

“Your beacon? Oh, you’ve erected one at the northeast camp?” Varian was both disappointed at this intelligence and surprised, though she kept her assumed role and pretended mild criticism.

“Camp?” He was overtly derisive, but his manner turned wary. “You are from a spaceship?”

“Of course. We picked up a distress call from the system’s satellite beacon. Naturally we are obliged to answer and investigate. Are you one of the ARCT-10’s original exploratory group?”

“Hardly. They were abandoned without explanation and with insufficient supplies to defend themselves.” Indignation and rancor flickered in his eyes. His body tensed.

So that was the story the mutineers had spread. At least it was partially based on fact.

“You seem to have adapted to this planet with commendable success,” Varian remarked, wondering what else she could get him to reveal, and perhaps estimate how long they’d slept. Would he be the first generation?

“You are too kind,” he replied.

“My benevolence has a limit, young man. I am on my way to the secondary camp mentioned in the final report recorded on the beacon. Are any of the original expedition still living?”

Varian was trying to guess whose son he might be. Or grandson, she added bleakly. She opted for Bakkun and Berru, since they were the only heavyworlders with light eyes. Aygar’s were a clear, bright, shrewd green. His features were finer than could be expected from either Tardma or Divisti.

“One has survived,” he said in an insolent drawl.

“One of the children from the original landing party?” Could she goad him into revealing more about the mutineers’ interpretation of abandonment.

“Children?” Aygar was surprised. “There were no children on the original expedition!”

“According to the beacon,” she replied, sowing what she hoped would be fertile seeds of doubt, “three children were included; Bonnard was the boy, and the two girls are named as Terilla and Cleiti, all in their second decade.”

“There were no children. Only six adults. Abandoned by the ARCT-10.” He spoke with the ring of truth in his voice, a truth which she knew to be false no matter how keenly he believed it.

“Discrepancies are not generally committed to satellite beacons. The message clearly read nineteen in the landing party, not six,” she said, permitting both irritation and surprise to tinge her voice. “What’re your leaders’ names?”

“Now? Or then?” He covered his chagrin with anger.

“Either.”

“Paskutti and Bakkun who was my grandsire.”

“Paskutti? Bakkun? Those are not the leaders of record. This is all very strange. You mentioned one survivor of the original group?”

“Tanegli, but he is failing,” and that frailty was anathema to Aygar’s youthful strength, “so his passing will occur in the near future.”

“Tanegli? What of Kai, Varian? The physician, Lunzie, the chemist Trizein.”

Aygar’s face was closed. “I’ve never heard those names. Six survived the stampede which overran the original camp?”

“Stampede?”

Aygar gestured irritably toward the far distant herbivores. “They panic easily, and panicked on the day my grandsire and the other five nearly died.” He grounded his spear and straightened in pride. “Had they not had the strength of three men, they would not have out run the herd that day!”

“Stampede?” Varian looked at the peaceful grazers as if assessing their potential. “Yes, well, I can imagine that a mass of them in hysterical flight might short even a large force field. And that certainly explains why only stubs of the plastic supports remain at the original site. Where are you now located? At the secondary camp?”

“No,” he said and took the largest of his two knives with which he proceeded to hack at the softer belly hide of the dead beast. He had to use both hands and great effort to penetrate the thick tissue. “Once the power for the force field was exhausted,” he continued, spacing his words between grunts as he made incisions, “the night creatures attacked. We live in caves, near the iron workings. We live on the flesh of animals that we trap or kill in chase,” he went on with cold vehemence. “We live and we die. This is our world now. You arrive too late to be any use to us. Go!”

“Keep a polite tongue in your head, young man, when speaking to me,” Varian said in a colder voice, summoning Discipline to every fiber of her body.

He rose, tossing down the bloody hunk of meat he had just carved. His eyes narrowed at the tone she had used, but she preferred to precipitate an incident while she was at full Discipline, and when he had just concluded a wearying run.

“We no longer recognize the authority of those who abandoned us to this savage world.”

“This world, Ireta, belongs to the Federated sentient Planets, young man, and you cannot-”

He made his move, goaded, as she had hoped, by her insufferable attitude. As she had expected, he came for her in a frontal attack, secure in his advantage of height and strength; swinging one arm wide, hand open, aimed to connect with the side of her head and knock her senseless. Had she not had the training of Discipline, she would probably have been crushed against fang-face, possibly skewered on a finely sharp claw. As it was, she caught his hand, used his forward momentum against him and threw him heavily to the ground.

Skilled in rough-and-tumble fighting he was up in a moment, but it was clear that his confidence as well as his body had been badly shaken by that fall. She didn’t want to humiliate him for he was an intelligent, extremely attractive man who believed what he said about abandonment. But, unless she could prove herself superior to him, she would jeopardize the scheme she had in mind. And she must remember that her effectiveness now would protect Kai, Lunzie, and the sleepers in the space shuttle.

She ignored his feint to the right but she was surprised as he launched himself into the air in an attempt to tackle her about the legs. Her reflexes were far quicker than his. She was above him as he dove and came down on his back, digging her fingers to the necessary nerve point through almost impenetrably hard muscles while she locked her other arm under his chin, forcing his head back. He tried to roll with her but she caught her legs under his, forcing them with Discipline strength so far apart that a gasp of pain was wrung from him. She heard his ill-used garment split.

“In most cultures which settle differences by physical combat,” she said in an even voice that did not indicate the strain under which she labored, “two falls out of three-and I assure you there would be a third for you-generally result in victory for the quicker opponent. I use the term “quicker” because that is basically one of the advantages I have over you: my training in hand-to-hand combat was conducted by masters of the martial arts. I will of course never mention this incident to anyone. I also can not allow you to persist in your aggression toward me or any other member of my mission, which has been sent to discover the whereabouts of the previous expedition and (and/or its…) or its survivors. I can assure you that the policy of the FSP and EEC allows generous terms to people in your position. Will you accept release in good faith, or will I be forced to turn your head just that fraction more which will crack the first and second vertebrae?”

She felt him swallow in an agony not purely physical.

“Do you accept?”

“You win!” The reluctant admission came through gritted teeth.

“I don’t win anything.” She made due note of his phraseology-“you win not I accept,” and respected him. Slowly she released her grip on his legs, before loosening the neck lock and the nerve pinch. A tiny, additional squeeze on the nerve as she released her fingers insured her time to rise and move a suitable distance from him in case combat honor was no longer a principle in his adaptation.

He rose slowly, swallowing against a dry and strained throat. He made no move to massage the nerve pinch although his arm hung limply and ought to be painful. He also ignored his damaged clothing. She kept her eyes on his face, now some what obscured by the swarms of blooding insects whizzing about them and the carcass. He drew in deep breaths, his face expressionless, and she could easily understand her perturbation. The man was muscled, not as a heavyworlder against the constant pull of gravity, but there couldn’t be a milligram of unnecessary flesh on him: he was truly one of the most beautiful men in form and face that she had ever seen. She regretted having had to best him with the unfair advantage of her Discipline. Raised by heavyworlder notions, there would be no forgiveness in him, for her. Nor could she ever explain why she had been able to throw him.

“Your physical strength was unexpected, Rianav.”

“I have often found it so, Aygar, although I dislike having to resort to such exhibitions. I am a reasonable person, for reason tends to secure a more lasting outcome than a show of physical force.”

“Reason? And honor?” He gave a dry sour laugh. “To have abandoned a small geological group on a savage world.”

Varian opened her hands in a gesture of regret. “It is a risk of the Service which we all-”

“I did not. I had no option.”

“In justice, you have the right to be bitter. You are the innocent victim of circumstances beyond ordinary control. The ARCT-10, the vessel which landed the Iretan expedition, is still missing.”

“Missing? For forty-three years?” His contempt was obvious. “Were you looking for it when you found this beacon of yours?”

“Not exactly but our code requires that we responded to your distress call.”

“Not mine. My grandparents-”

“The call was heard and our ship has responded, who ever made the original signal.”

“I’m supposed to be grateful for that?” He resumed his slicing of meat from the ribs of the monster, discarding the initial hunk, which was already crawling with winged vermin. Despite Discipline, Varian found herself revolted by his activity. “Forty-three years to answer a distress call? Mighty efficient organization, yours. Well, we’ve survived and we’ll continue to. We don’t need your help-now.”

“Possibly. How many are you after two generations?” With such a small gene pool, she wondered if they were already inbred.

He laughed, as if he sensed her thought. “We have bred carefully, Rianav, and have made the most of our-how would you term it, inadvertent plantation?”

“Ireta is not on the colonial list. We checked that immediately for we are under no compunction to aid a colony which can’t fend for itself.” Her Discipline must be dropping, Varian thought, from the sharpness with which she answered him. Gaber’s rumor mongering had lasted into the second generation.

“To be sure,” he said, angry sarcasm masking as courtesy. “So, what are your plans now, honorable Rianav!”

She gave him a long look, playing her role as rescuer to the hilt. “Instructions, rather. I shall return to our base with my reports on your presence.”

“No need to concern yourself with me.”

“How can you possibly transport all that…”

“We’ve learned a trick or two,” and Varian was certain that his smile was faintly superior.

“May I have the coordinates of your present location?”

His grin was more amused than insolent but the mockery was in his reply.

“Run at a good steady pace to your right, through the first hills, turn right up the ravine, but mind the river snakes. Continue along the river course to the first falls, take the easiest route up the cliff-it’s pretty well marked by now, and follow the line of limestone-you do know limestone from granite, I assume? The valley widens. You’ll know when you’ve reached us by the cultivated fields.” There was pure malice in his grin now. “Yes, we find that vegetables, fruits, and grains are required to maintain a balanced diet, even if we can’t process our food.” He had been gouging past the ribs of the dead beast and now suddenly, his arms dripping with blood, he held up a huge dark brownish red lump. “And this, the liver of the thunder lizard, is the most nutritious meat available.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you slaughtered that creature just for its liver?” Her xenob training broke through her elected role.

“We do not kill indiscriminately, Rianav: we kill to survive.” Coldly he turned back to his task, leaning partly inside the ribs to reach more of the choice liver.

“The distinction is, of course, valid. However, we have no knowledge of the dangers of walking about this land of yours. Is the secondary camp of record far from your present location?”

“No.” He had removed the curious tube from his back. From the tube he pulled a tight roll of what appeared to Varian to be synthesized fabric, light, waterproof, and durable enough to have lasted forty-three years. He spread the fabric with a practiced flip on the ground, piling the choice chunks of meat and covering them quickly, folding over the edges of the fabric to prevent insects from attaching themselves to the meat. “I’ll meet you there in three days time.”

“Will it take that long to return to your base?” Varian could not keep the astonishment from her voice.

“Not at all,” he said, severing more choice morsels. As he added these to the pack and covered them, he glanced skyward. Varian followed his gaze and saw that the carrion fliers were massing in their circles. She also noticed the three giffs to one side of the others and wondered if Aygar did. “We have to be quick after a kill. Or be mistaken for the corpse by those. No, I shall be in my home before nightfall but my fellow exiles must be told of this happy re-establishment of contact with other worlds.”

He had what Varian judged to be fifty or sixty kilos of meat. Lashing the tube to the base of the meat, he deftly added straps, padded where they would cross his shoulders, and made a portable package. One eye on the scavengers, he now rinsed his arms from a water bottle, then covered them with mud, scooped at a distance from the slaughtering ground. Then he swung the pack to his back, settling the pads properly. He stared at her so intently that a faint stirring of alarm prompted her next action.

From a pouch on her upper arm, she took out the dark plastic box in which she once carried stimtabs. He could see that she had something in her hand but not what. She pretended to depress a switch with her thumb, holding her hand close to her mouth.

“Unit Three to Base. Unit Three to Base.” She made a disapproving noise. “Recorder’s on. They’ve all left the encampment!” She gave Aygar an angry glance. “Base, I have made contact with survivors, coordinates 87.58 by 72.33. Returning to Base. Over.” She operated a thumb switch again and then replaced the box in her pocket. “Leaving for base at once. They’ll hear about this. In three days then, Aygar, and good luck!” She swung away from him walking rapidly toward the sled.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him set off at a steady jog and sighed in relief. For a moment, it seemed to her as if he might do something. A glance at the sky showed her that Aygar’s departure might have been a signal and she a negligible danger, for the scavengers were backwinging to land. Out of the grasses other creatures slunk toward the feast. She was relieved to be so close to the sled but only felt completely safe when she had fastened the canopy overhead.

She guided into the clouds to head southwest. She caught sight of him again and marveled that he could run so easily, burdened as he was and after the exhausting chase. There might be something to say for implantation after all if the process resulted in such superbly fit people.

She wished she had a working wrist unit to tell Lunzie about the survival of the mutineers as well as the slanted account passed down to their descendants. She wished she could have figured out a way to ask Aygar if his people had encountered the creature that had attacked Kai, and if they knew what could be used to cure him. On the other hand, she now knew that the second camp had been abandoned. She debated the wisdom of continuing to it since it would be unlikely she’d find anything of value to her. Certainly none of the equipment Lunzie needed. Of course, if Kai were not considerably improved, and Varian refused to consider the worst, she had a good reason for approaching Aygar again today. Surely his people must have encountered the leech-creatures and might even have developed an antidote for the toxemia. She could say that another member of her landing party had been attacked-which was true enough anyhow. She grimaced at the comunit on her console and suddenly realized that the device was operative, even if there was no where to communicate to. But, Varian told herself cheerfully, there were four other sleds with equally undamaged comunits. They could wake Portegin, have him utilize what matrix slabs were necessary from one or two of the sleds and repair the shuttle’s smashed unit, at least for intership communications. That would give them two, maybe three sleds available for use. It might not be enough to reach a passing EEC ship outside the stellar system but certainly they’d be able to reach the Thek again. Or the Ryxi.

Varian grimaced at the thought of having to appeal for help to the Ryxi: how they would flaunt that news about! More vital, she didn’t want the Ryxi to know more about the giffs than they already did.

Kai had to recover. After the mutiny of the six heavyworlders, their situation had been difficult at best, desperate at the worst. They had emerged from cold sleep in a very much improved position, despite Kai’s injury. The mutineers had had their own problems on Ireta and Varian felt that her initial contact with the younger generation had established a position of undeniable superiority. Or had she? Something about Aygar’s manner toward the end of their encounter bothered her. That’s why she had instinctively invented a “contact” with a “base.”

She could feel the laxness of her muscles as Discipline eased. She ate the rest of the fruit, inadequate though it was to replenish her energies. Why hadn’t she thought to take a pepper with her, she wondered peevishly. Probably, she amended her own forgetfulness, because the last peppers had been used to overcome delayed shock after escaping the stampede of the herbivores.

She smiled as she recalled Aygar’s legend of that incident. Did he know how silly it was for six people to be deliberately abandoned to form a colony? He didn’t know the first thing about genetics. Well, yes, he must if he’d mentioned breeding.

It was fatigue more than curiosity that made Varian decide to continue on to the old camp. She’d be safe there and able to snatch an hour’s sleep before the return journey. She was so nearly there anyhow, she might just as well have a look.