Dinosaur Planet

CHAPTER SEVEN

In the next seven days, the expedition was too busy setting up the secondary camps to indulge in any activity not strictly necessary to these primary aims. Varian found time to return to the fish rock and bring several small dessicated specimens of the fringes for Trizein to study. The man buried himself in his laboratory until Lunzie found him asleep at his work desk. She forced him to take a break, eat and sleep. He did so unwillingly and when he woke, he stumbled about the compound with unseeing eyes, though he did stop once to stare at Dandy with a puzzled expression.

The little creature was quite tame and permitted out of its run when Bonnard and Cleiti were on hand. Varian had decided not to release it as, orphaned, it had no natural protector. Kai had to accede to her arguments since it was obvious the little beast would never reach a great size and was therefore no strain on the expedition's time or resources. Dandy was, by nature, timid and content to follow the youngsters about, its large liquid eyes wistful or startled by turns. Kai would privately have preferred more of an extrovert personality in a tamed beast but Dandy posed no problem of aggressive behaviour. Kai still thought it a very nondescript affair.

The golden fliers were continually seen in the skies, almost as if, Varian said one evening, they were as interested in the new occupants of their skies as the expedition was in them. She had been gleefully enchanted by Vrl's reaction to their existence for, as the slow playback confirmed, the Ryxi had spluttered out a repudiation of Varian's report, indicating that an intelligent avian species was unlikely to occur again on any planet, under any conditions: the Ryxi were unique and would remain so and any attempt to supplant their preeminent position in the Federation would be met by severe measures. Vrl suggested that this was a hoax which the bipeds had better forget, retract and abandon or he would recommend that all contact between Ryxi and Human be forthwith severed.

Once Terilla's animal maps were circulated, Tanegli and Gaber vyed with each other for her time and skill to the point where Varian and Kai had to intervene. Unconcerned by such competition for her assistance, Terilla made it quite plain that she much preferred plants to charts or animals. Chuckling, Varian showed Kai the map the girl had inscribed for Tanegli indicating the position of flora, grass and shrub on the plains and swamp areas. A work schedule was evolved in which Terilla spent three afternoons with each man while her morning hours were hers. With increased work loads, Kai assigned tasks to Bonnard and Cleiti as he would any other member of the expedition. Tanegli usually opted for Bonnard and Cleiti when Terilla was not available for his botanical excursions. Sometimes Bonnard acted as recorder for Bakkun when administration duties prevented Kai from field-work beside the heavy-world geologist.

Lunzie annexed Cleiti on those days to help her test Ireta's soil and vegetation for any unusual medicinal properties.

Two secondary camps were cited and occupied but it was obvious that a third camp to the far east would have to be established to continue exploration of the easterly land mass. Kai projected that over half their expeditionary time would be spent in the eastern hemisphere. He hoped that the fifteen degree axial tilt would mean some cooler weather in the polar regions when the teams had to move to complete the survey in the western hemisphere.

On neither of his next two contacts with the Theks did they have any good news for him of the deferred query or of the EV. Kai's leeway on the matter of response from EV was fast running out. He was prepared and had Varian's support when Dimenon forced an admission of a contact lapse. Kai cited thc cosmic storm in such an off-handed manner that Dimenon never thought to ask if the ores report was the only message uncollected.

“How long a grace period we have now, I wouldn't estimate,” Kai told Varian afterwards.

"Keep "em so busy counting their paydirt bonuses that they'll forget to as?"

“This is a raking rich planet, Varian.”

“So? It's up to EV to stay in touch with us, if they want the energy materials we've found. They know where we are.” Varian held Kai's gaze and she jerked up one eyebrow. “You aren't considering Gaber's ludicrous notion, are you?”

“It does occur to me now and then,” Kai said, rubbing the side of his nose, feeling silly but actually relieved to hear Varian air the matter.

“Hmmm, yes. It occurs to me now and then, too. Have the Ryxi reported in again?”

“No.” Kai grinned at her. “Did you expect them to?”

“No.” She laughed. “They are so . . . pompously paranoiac. As if another intelligent avian could possibly threaten them. I mean, the giffs,” which was the nickname she'd given the golden fliers, “are intelligent but so far from the Ryxi position that it's asinine for them to take umbrage.” Varian sighed. “I'd love to evaluate their intelligence.”

“Why don't you?”

“With your lot agitating for that eastern camp?”

“What about next rest day? Make a small start. Go observe them, relax for the day.”

“Could I?” Varian brightened at the prospect. “Could I take the big sled, sleep out in it? We've got their flight habits well documented now, we've caught the fishing act often enough to establish that drill, but I don't know much about their personal life, their matutinal habits. And there's only the one place for those grasses they eat. They do use swamp grass for net-weaving but I don't know exactly how they accomplish the feat.” She gave him a sideways frown. “You need a break as much as I do. Let's both go, next rest day. Paskutti and Lunzie can sub for us.”

“What if we arrive on the giff rest day?” asked Kai with a very bland expression.

“There's always that possibility, isn't there?” she replied, not taking his lure.

Kai was astonished at how eagerly he looked forward to the break in routine. That showed how right Varian had been in suggesting it. Lunzie approved wholeheartedly, telling Kai she'd been about to recommend a day off for them both. She wasn't too sure that observing the giffs at close range constituted a proper holiday but the physician was equally keen to know more about the giffs.

“What is there about winged creatures that fascinates us all?” Lunzie asked as they sat about after the evening meal over beakers of distilled fruit juice.

“Their independence?” asked Kai.

' “If we had been meant to fly, we'd've been given wings,” ' quipped Varian in a thin nasal voice, then continued in a normal tone, “I suspect it is the freedom, or perhaps the view, the perspective, the feeling of infinite space about you. You ship-bred types can't appreciate open spaces the way the planet-bred can, but I do need vistas on which to feast my eyes, and soul.”

“Confinement, voluntary or involuntary, can have adverse effects on temperament and psychology, resulting in serious maladjustrnents,” Lunzie said. “One reason why we include the youngsters on planetfall assignments as often as possible.”

Kai remained silent, acutely conscious of his own sometimes pressing agoraphobia.

“We have surrogate wings,” Lunzie continued, “in the agency of sleds and lift-belts . . .”

“Which do not quite produce the same freedoms,” said Kai slowly, wondering what it would feel like to be independent of all artificial aids: to dip, dive, soar and glide without the unconscious restrictive considerations of fuel, stress, metal fatigue.

“Why, Kai,” said Varian, regarding him with delighted astonishment, “you're the last one I'd expect to understand.”

“Perhaps,” he said with a wry smile, “you planet-bred types underestimate the ship-bred.”

Dimenon, who'd been in an uproariously good mood that evening, since he and Margit had flown in to report finding not only a stream running with gold nuggets but the parent lode, had brought out his handpiano. He began to render a boisterous ballad with interminable verses and a silly syllabic chorus with such an infectious tune that everyone joined in. To Kai's surprise, so did the heavy-worlders, thumping the plasfloor with their heavy boots and clapping with unusual enthusiasm.

Margit wanted to dance and dragged Kai onto the floor, yelling at Dimenon to leave off the endless verses and play some decent music. Kai was never certain when the heavy-worlders disappeared but the convivial gathering lasted well past the rise of the third moon.

He awoke suddenly the next morning. with an urgency that suggested danger. When he scrambled out of the sleeping sack to the window of his dome, the scene was quiet. Dandy was sprawled asleep in his pen. There was no movement. The day had started, the brighter patch of cloud which was the sun was well above the soft slope of the eastern hills. Whatever had alarmed his subconscious was not apparent.

He was roused and so keyed up by the abrupt triggering that he decided to remain up. He dragged on a clean ship suit, inserted a fresh lining in his boots and fastened them. He had a small larder in his dome and broke open a wake-up beaker, reminding himself to check with Lunzie today on the state of the stores. He could not shake his sensation that something was amiss so he did a tour of the encampment.

There wasn't a smell of smoke in the main dome. Gaber was fast asleep in his, the windows were opaqued in the other sleeping– quarters so he did not intrude. Remembering Trizein's tendency to work through a night, he made his way quickly to the shuttle craft, waving open the iris lock. The conditioned air inside gave him pause. Suddenly he realized that he hadn't put his nose filters in: and he hadn't smelled Ireta!

“Muhlah! I'm getting used to it.” His soft exclamation echoed in the bare main cabin of the shuttle. Kai walked quietly back to Trizein's lab, opened the iris and peered in. Some experiments were in progress, judging by the activity of dials and gauges in the built-in equipment but Trizein's form on the ledge-bed was motionless.

As Kai turned from the lab, he noticed that the supply hold iris was open. He must caution Trizein about that. Lunzie kept her decanted fruit brew in there. Kai had noticed conspicuous consumption the night before and his aggressiveness when Margit suggested he'd had enough. Kai didn't quite put it past the man to appropriate a flask for evening use in the secondary camp. Not a habit he'd approve or condone in any of his team members.

Although his inspection satisfied him that nothing was demonstrably wrong, his uneasiness remained until, after returning to his dome, he became immersed in the restricted file in the ship's data bank. By the time the rest of the expedition was stirring, he had rid himself of the backlog of detail. The inadvertently early rising had been rewarding.

Dimenon, looking untouched by the previous evening's carousal, arrived in the main dome with Margit, both suited up and ready to return to their base. They ate quickly, wanting to make an early start back, but as they were leaving, Dimenon asked Kai when he expected to contact the Theks again. He did not seem disturbed when Kai gave a time three days later.

"Well, let us know how EV appreciates our labours on this stinking planet. Although – " Dimenon frowned and felt his nostrils, "Rake it! I forgot to put "em in again!"

“Smell anything?” asked Kai, amused.

Dimenon's eyes began to widen and his mouth dropped in exaggerated reaction.

“I've got used to the stench!” He roared the statement, full of aggrieved incredulity. “Kai, please, when you've got through to EV, have them pick us up before schedule? Please, I've got used to the stench of hydro-telluride.” He clutched at his throat now, contorting his face as though in terminal agony, “I can't stand it. I can't stand it.”

Lunzie, who was literal minded, came rushing up, frowning with anxiety while Kai tried to gesture reassurance. Others were grinning at Dimenon's histrionics but the heavy-worlders, after uninterested glances at the geologist, turned back to their own quiet-toned discussions. Lunzie still hadn't realized that Dimenon was acting. He grabbed at her shoulders now.

“Tell me, Lunzie, tell me I'm not a goner. My sense of smell'll come back, won't it. Once I'm in decent air? Oh, don't tell me I'll never be able to smell nothing in the air again . . .”

“If the acclimitization should be permanent, you could always get an Iretan air-conditioning for your shipboard quarters,” Lunzie replied, apparently in earnest.

Dimenon looked horrified and, for a moment, didn't catch the brand of the physician's humour.

“C'mon, partner, you've been bested,” said Margit, taking him by the arm. “Better to smell the sweet air of another find . . .”

“Could you get so used to Iretan stink you'd never smell normal again?” Bonnard asked Lunzie, a little worried as he watched the two geologists leave.

“No,” said Lunzie with a dry chuckle. “The smell is powerful but I doubt There's any permanent desensitization. The temporary effect is somewhat of a blessing. Do you have it?”

Bonnard nodded uncertainly. “But I didn't know I couldn't smell it anymore until Dimenon mentioned it.” This worried him.

“Since you are now used to the overbearing smell, see if you can now distinguish other, previously unsensed odours, while you're out and about today.”

“Worse ones?” Bonnard regarded Lunzie, appalled.

“I can smell a difference in the blossoms I've been cataloguing,” said Terilla. “And some of the leaves have an odour if you crush 'em. Not too bad a smell, really,” she added helpfully.

That morning Kai checked with Lunzie about stores. She was not the sort of person to give spot replies and together they went to the store hold.

“I'm not missing any of the fruit distillation, if that's what you're worried about, Kai,” she said in her direct fashion. “We've not made too many inroads in the subsistence supplies, either. I've been gradually phasing them out entirely, in favour of local protein.”

“You have?” Kai was surprised.

“You hadn't noticed?” There was a slight emphasis on the pronoun. Lunzie smiled briefly with pleasure at the success of her programme. “We are losing hard goods, though, at a rate which worries me.”

“Hard goods?”

“Knives, film and sheet extruders, spare charges for life-belts . . .”

“What did the secondary camps take?”

“Not enough to account for some of these items. Unless, of course, they haven't reported the losses and have merely helped themselves when I was busy elsewhere.” That solution sounded plausible. “If I may, I'll appoint Cleiti as requisitions officer and have her on hand when anyone needs to Visit the supply hold. We can keep a check that way without giving offence . . .”

“Or warning,” thought Kai, and then decided that his imagination was working overtime. He did need that day's respite.

Varian returned to the camp from one of her search and identity sweeps early in the afternoon before rest day. She cornered Kai in his dome, scornfully clacking the tape holders that were stacked in front of him, tugging at the seismic print-out on the volcanic action in the north-west which he had been studying. Pressures were mounting on a long transform fault and he was hoping they'd have enough warning to be able to observe the earthquake when the phenomenon occurred.

“Leave that, Kai. You can zip through report work a lot faster with a fresh mind.”

“It's early yet . . .”

"Raking right it is. I got back special so I could pry you out of here before the teams come in and dump such glowing reports on you that you feel obliged to listen." She went back to the iris lock. "Cleiti! Did you organize those supplies for us? And where's Bonnard?" The reply was inaudible to Kai but satisfactory to Varian who nodded. If he's sure he's got what he needs, tell him to pack it into the sled beside my things. Kai, where's your pack? Ha! Thought so. Okay, what do you need?"

Varian moved purposefully to his storage chest so that Kai pushed back his stool and waved her away. She stood, grinning but adamant, while he packed what he needed into his sleep sack, and gathered up his safety gear. With a courteous sweep of his hand, he indicated he was ready.

“I knew I'd have to haul you out of here.” Varian sounded grimly smug.

“Then what are you dragging your feet for?” asked Kai with a smile and exited before her. As an afterthought, he thumblocked the iris control. He didn't really want anyone to happen across the message tapes with the Theks.

As Varian neatly swung the big sled over the encampment, sparkling with the blue demise of insects, she groaned. “We should have brought a small unit for tonight. We'll have to sleep in belt screens!”

“Not if we sack out on the sled floor,” said Bonnard, eyeing the space. “I think There's room enough if we stack our supplies on the front seating and remove the side benches. Shall I activate the telltale?”

“This once, we'll leave it silent,” said Varian. “There wouldn't be anything untagged this close to camp anyway.”

A companionable silence enveloped the three and lasted the entire trip to the inland sea which they reached just as the last speck of gloom, as Bonnard phrased it, began to fade from the sullen skies. Varian had marked a good landing site, a shallow terrace beyond and below the main congregation of the giffs but with a fine view of the summit where the netted fish were deposited.

The first hour after sunset there was a brief surcease of daytime insect activity before the nocturnal creatures became a menace. During this interim, Varian heated their evening meal on the bare stone terrace. Then, to the amazement of Bonnard and the consternation of Kai, she removed dead branches from the storage section of the sled and lit a small fire.

“Campfire is very comforting even if you ship-bred types think it's atavistic. My father and I used to have one every night on our expeditions.”

“It's very pretty,” said Bonnard in a tentative tone, and looked towards Kai to see his reaction.

Kai smiled and told himself to relax. Fire on shipboard was a hazard: his instant reflex had been to grab something to smother the flames, but as he eyed the small fire, which posed no danger to him, the dancing spikes were pleasantly hypnotic. The small warmth it exuded gave them a circle of light and certainly kept the insects away.

“The oldest belt-screen in the world,” Varian said, poking the fire to fresh vigour with a stick. “On Protheon, they were particular about their firewoods, choosing those which gave off pleasant aromas. They liked scent with their warmth and light. I wouldn't dare try that on Ireta.”

“Why not?” asked Bonnard, his eyes fixed on a point deep in the flames. “Terilla said There's some that smell pretty good – by Iretan standards. You know, Varian, I haven't been able to smell anything but Ireta! D'you suppose Lunzie could be wrong and my nose has gone dead?”

Varian and Kai both laughed. “You'll know soon enough when we get back to the EV,” Varian told him.

“Yeah!” Bannard's reply lacked any enthusiasm for return.

“You'd be sorry to leave?”

“I sure will, Kai, and it's not because we'll have to leave Dandy. There's so much to do here. I mean, tapes are great, and better than nothing, but this trip I'm learning hundreds of things. Learning's got a point . . .”

“You have to have had the theoretical study before you can attempt the practical,” Varian said but Bonnard waved that consideration aside.

"I've studied basics till data comes out my pores but it isn't the same thing at all as being here and doing it!" Bonnard was emphatically banging his knee. "Like that fire, and all. Rakers, on shipboard you see flames and dash for the

foamer!"

Varian grinned at Kai and caught his rueful expression.

“Your point's taken, Bonnard,” she said. “And I think it's safe to say that you'll be in demand for more expeditions once Kai and I have made our report. Bakkun thinks highly of your performance as his recorder.”

"He does?" Bannard's expression which had soured at the contemplation of return to EV, brightened with such a future." You're sure?" His gaze went from Varian to Kai.

“As far as you can be sure of a heavy-worlder.”

“Are there more expeditions planned, Varian?” asked Bonnard urgently.

“More or less,” she replied, catching Kai's gaze. “I was signed on this tour for three expeditions requiring a xenob over a period of four standard years. You'd be eligible as a junior member in that time. Of course, you might opt for geology rather than xenob.”

“I like animals,” said Bonnard, testing the words in his mouth so as not to give offence to either leader, “but I do Like . . . sort of fancy the more scientific aspects of . . . .”

“I'd think you'd be best as an all-round recorder, with as many specialties in that area as possible,” said Varian, helping him.

“You do?”

His reaction made it obvious to Kai and Varian that it was the mechanics of recording that fascinated the boy, rather than any of the individual disciplines. They talked about specialization as the fire burned down, was replenished, and burned down again. By the time Kai suggested they sack out, the two leaders had assured Bonnard that they would give him as much opportunity at tape and recorders as possible to see if this was really where his interests lay.

Safe under the sled's protective screen, they slept deeply and without a bother from the night creatures of Ireta.

Varian was aroused the next morning by something prodding her shoulder. She was still sleepy but again she was prodded, more emphatically this time, and her name was whispered urgently." Varian. Varian! Wake up. We got company."

That forced her to open eyes which she instantly closed, not believing her first sight.

“Varian, you've got to wake up!” Bannard's whisper was anxious.

“I am. I've seen.”

“What do we do?”

“Have you moved yet?”

“Only to nudge you. Did I hurt?”

“No.” They were both speaking in low tones. “Can you prod Kai awake?”

“I don't know how he wakes up.”

Bonnard had a point. It wouldn't do to rouse someone who erupted out of the sack like a torpedo. He'd known how to rouse her since he'd often done so when they'd first acquired Dandy.

“Kai's quiet if you do it as gently as you woke me.”

Varian grinned to herself. She wasn't sorry she'd included Bonnard on this trip: last night's discussion had proved how much he'd needed the encouragement as well as the opportunity to talk without reservations imposed on him by the presence of older team members or the two girls. It had been obvious last evening that Kai would have preferred to have made this a duet trip, and a complete break from the exigencies of leadership. Now she'd pried him away from his tape decks, she'd do it again, without a third party.

They had slept head to foot, so while Bonnard prodded Kai's shoulder with his foot, Varian whispered the warning to him.

“Kai, wake slowly, don't move. The observers are observed.”

She had her eyes half-open now, because the giffs were so closely ringed about the sled that, in her first arousal, she had seen a series of bright black eyes on a level with hers.

She almost giggled when a sharp orangey beak point tapped at the plascreen surrounding the sled, tapping gently as if not wishing to startle the sleepers.

“Muhlah!” was Kai's soft curse and there was a ripple of laughter in his tone.

“Is it safe for me to have a look?” asked Bonnard in his hushed whisper.

“Don't know why not. They're looking at us.”

“Can they get in?” was Bannard's anxious question.

I doubt it," said Varian, unperturbed. She wouldn't guarantee that the plascreen could stand a concerted attack of heavier adult beaks but she didn't feel that aggression was the giffs' intent.

“I thought you wanted to see their matutinal habits, Varian?” said Kai, slowly raising his hand from the sleep sack to prop it on his hand. He wasn't looking at her, but beyond her to the golden furred faces peering in.

“That was my intention.”

“As I recall it, I asked you what if it was their rest day?”

Varian couldn't suppress her laughter and Bonnard joined in, never dropping his eyes from the giffs.

“You mean, they're taking the day off to watch us?”

“They're at least starting the day doing it,” said Varian, raising herself slowly out of the sack.

The avians moved restlessly, wings awkwardly held up.

“Hey, they can rotate the wings at the wrist . . .”

“Yes, Bonnard, I'd noticed.” Varian had also seen the flexing of the three digits with the yellowed claws at the tips. The function of thumb and little finger had been incorporated into the wing so Varian couldn't see how they would be able to weave with the three wing digits.

“Hey, they're not all here,” said Bonnard, pointing up in a judiciously controlled gesture.

None of the giffs were perched on top of the plascreen so that the sky was clearly visible. Outlined against the clouds was a formation of giffs going in a south-easterly direction.

“I think we've got the youngsters here,” said Varian.

“The babes at that,” said Kai, pointing to the trail of brownish slime that drippled down the outside skirting of the sled.

Bonnard muffled a chortle. “So what do we do now? I'm hungry.”

“Then we'll eat,” said Varian and began to pull her legs out of the sack, slowly, to give the giffs no reason for alarm. “Yes, they're the young ones,” she said as she slowly got to her feet and stared down at the small bodies pressing in about the sled.

Seen in proper perspective, she realized none of these giffs were adult sized. The tip of the longest head crest came only to her waist. She'd estimated that a fully grown giff would be as tall as an average human, with a wing span of at least eight to ten metres.

“What do we do?” asked Bonnard.

“Sit up slowly. I'll bring you breakfast in the sack,” she said, moving carefully to the supplies.

Kai had pulled himself into a sitting position now and gratefully accepted the steaming beaker.

“Breakfast with an audience,” he said. sipping.

“I wish they'd move or talk or something,” said Bonnard, glancing nervously about him as he blew to cool the liquid in his beaker. He almost dropped it when one of the giffs stretched and flapped wings suddenly. “They're not even trying to get at us.”

“Look but don't touch?” asked Kai. “Frankly, I'd just as soon they kept to themselves. Those beak points look sharp.” He glanced at Varian who had a small recorder in her hands now, and holding it at waist level was slowly turning a full circle, recording the faces of their audience.

With equal care against sudden movement, she placed the recorder on one shoulder and turning again. stood so still for a long moment at one point that Kai asked what was up.

“I've the recorder directed on the main summit. There's quite a bit of activity here right now. I can't see what it's all about . . . Oh, yes, I do. It's the adults. I'd swear . . . yes . . . they're calling this lot.”

As reluctantly as any curious young creature, the juvenile giffs began to lumber awkwardly away, disappearing so suddenly that Bonnard cried out in alarm.

“They're okay, Bonnard,” said Varian who had a better view. “We're right on the cliff edge. They've just walked off it and if you'll glance over your shoulder, you'll see them soaring away, perfectly safe.”

“Muhlah!” exclaimed Kai with utter disgust. “We had 'em close enough and didn't telltag 'em.”

“What? And scare them into bringing momma and dad down on us? We don't really need to telltag giffs anyway, Kai. We know where they live, and how far they range.” She patted the recorder. “And I've got their faces all on tape.”

"They sure had a good enough look at ours," said Bonnard." I wonder if they'll remember us next time."

“All furless, crestless faces look the same,” said Varian with a laugh.

She was moving about the sled now without restraint and handed each a bar of subsistence protein. She perched on the pilot chair to munch hers.

When they had finished eating, joking about the manner of their awakening, they made ready to leave the sled. Kai and Bonnard carried the recorders and additional tapes, Varian had her gift of the grasses. Kai also wore a stunner, hoping he wouldn't have to use it. Not, he thought privately, that he'd have much chance the way those giffs could move.

As they emerged, the sun came through the cloud cover, for its morning inspection, Bonnard said. From the caves in the cliffs came hundreds and hundreds of golden fliers, as if called inexorably by the thin thread of sunlight. Bonnard quickly aimed the recorder and caught the spectacle of hundreds of giffs, wings raised, beaks open, carolling a curious warble as they turned in the sparse sunlight.

“Ever seen anything like that before, Varian?” asked Kai in amazement.

“Not quite like that. Oh, they are beautiful creatures. Quick, Bonnard, on the third terrace to the left, get that lot?”

The giffs, one after the other, dropped off the ledge, wings spreading and lifting, soaring, turning over, as if letting each part of their bodies bathe in the sunlight. It was a slow aerial dance that held the observers spellbound.

“They've got their eyes closed,” Bonnard said, peering through the focusing lens of the recorder. “Hope they know where they're going.”

“They probably have some sort of radar perception,” said Varian. She increased her face-mask's magnification to observe more closely. “I wonder . . . are their eyes closed for some mystical reason? Or simply because the sun is strong?”

“Carotene is good for your eyes,” said Bonnard

Varian tried to recall if she'd ever seen a fang-face or one of the herbivores squint or close their eyes completely during sunshine. She couldn't remember. Full sunlight was a rare enough occasion so that all human eyes were invariably on the sun. She'd check the tapes out when she got back to the camp.

“Now, look Varian, only some of 'em are doing the flying act,” said Bonnard. He had swung around, recorder still operating, and focused on the juvenile giffs scratching about on the fish summit.

One of them let out a squawk, tried to back away from something and, overbalancing, fell back. Its companions regarded it for a long moment as it lay, flapping helplessly.

Without thinking, Varian began to climb towards the summit to assist the creature. She had put her hand over the top, when an adult giff, with a cry shrill enough to be a command, landed on the summit, awkwardly turning towards Varian. When she judiciously halted her climbing, the giff deftly flipped the juvenile to its feet with the wing claws. The wing remained a protective envelope above the young giff.

“Okay, I get the message, loud and clear,” said Varian.

A second grating sound issued from the adult giff whose eyes never left Varian.

“Varian!” Kai's call was warning and command.

“I'm all right. I've just been told to keep my distance.”

“Make it more distance, Varian. I'm covering you.”

“It would have attacked me if it was going to, Kai. Don't show the stunner.”

“How would they know what a stunner is?” asked Bonnard.

“Point! I'm going to offer the grass.” And slowly Varian took the rift grasses from her leg pouch and with great care held up the sheaf for the giff to see.

The creature's eyes did not leave hers but Varian sensed that the grass had been noticed. She moved her hand slowly, to place the sheaf on the top of the summit. The giff made another grating noise, softer, less aggressive in tone

“You're very welcome,” said Varian, and heard Bannard's snort of disgust. “Courtesy is never wasted, Bonnard. Tone conveys its own message. So does gesture. This creature understands a certain amount from both what I'm doing and what I'm saying.”

She had begun to descend to the sled's terrace level now, moving deliberately and never taking her eyes from the giff. As soon as she was back, standing with Kai and Bonnard, the adult giff waddled forward, took up the grass and then, returning to the sea-edge, dropped off. Once it had sufficient wing room, it soared up again and out of sight among the other fliers.

“That was fascinating,” said Kai on the end of a long held sigh.

Bonnard was regarding Varian with open respect.

“Wow! One poke of that beak and you'd've been sent over the edge.”

“There was no menace in the giff's action.”

“Varian,” said Kai, laying a hand on her arm, “do be careful.”

"Kai, this isn't my first contact." Then she saw the worry in his eyes. "I am always careful. Or I wouldn't be here now. Making friends with alien creatures is my business. But how I'm ever to find out how mature their young are if they're this protective . . ." She stopped, whistled her surprise. I know. The giff was protective because it's used to protecting the juveniles. So, they're not equipped to protect themselves at birth, or for some time thereafter. Still," and she sighed her disappointment, "I would have liked to get inside one of their caves . . ."

“Look, Varian,” said Bonnard in a whisper and indicated the direction with the barest movement of his forefinger.

Slowly, Varian turned to see a row of juvenile giffs watching from the summit, wings in a closed position, tilted up beyond their backs, wing claws acting as additional supports to their sitting. Varian began to laugh, shaking her head and muttering about the observer observed.

“So we're fair peek,” said Kai, leaning against the edge of the sled and folding his arms. “Now what do we do in your programme? Be observed in our daily morning habits?”

“You can, if you wish. Be interesting to see how long their attention span is, but there's a great deal going on up there.” She pointed skywards where the giffs were circling, but some groups spun off in various directions, with purposeful sweeps of their wings. “We don't seem to have hit a day of rest,” she said, flashing a smile at Kai. “Bonnard, if I give you a leg up on the sled's canopy, I think you can see the summit. Can you tell me what the juveniles were squawking about? Or what overbalanced the one I wanted to rescue?”

“Sure.”

“Just don't dance about too much. Your boots'll scar the plascreen. And no, you can't take 'em off,” Kai added as Bonnard began to speak.

They hoisted him up and, moving with great care, Bonnard positioned himself where he could see the summit.

“There's dead fringes up here, Varian, and some slimy looking seaweed. Aw, would you look at that?”

The juveniles, attracted by his new position, had abandoned that section of the summit and waddled over to stand directly in Bannard's line of sight. Disgusted, he, propped both hands against his hips and glared, actions which set them all to squawking and shifting away from the edge. Kai and Varian chuckled over the two sets of young.

“Hey, recorder man, you missed a dilly of a sequence!”

“Don't I just know it?”

“C'mon down,” Varian told him, having learned what she needed to know.

She wandered over to the sea edge of the terrace, lay down, peering further over the drop.

“I'm not allowed up. Am I allowed down? There appears to be a cave over to the left, about twenty metres, Kai. If I use a bell-harness, you could probably swing me to it.”

Kai was not completely in favour of such gymnastics but the belt-harness, winched safely to the sled's exterior attachments, could hold a heavy-worlder securely. He was glad not to be at the end of the pendulum swing as she was to reach her objective.

“Are they watching, Bonnard?” Varian asked over the comunit.

“The young ones are, Varian, and yes, one of the airborne fliers is watching.”

“Let's see if they have any prohibitive spots . . .”

“Varian . . .” Kai grew apprehensive as he, too, saw the adult giff fly in for a close look at Varian's swinging body.

“It's only looking, Kai. I expect that. One more swing now and . . . I got it.” She had grabbed and caught a stony protrusion at the cave entrance and agilely scrambled in.

“Rakers! It's abandoned. It's gigantic. Goes so far back I can't see the end.” Her voice over the comunit sounded muffled and then hollow.

“No, wait. Just what I wanted. An egg. An egg? And they let me in. Oh, it rattles. Dead egg. Small, too. Well, only circumstantial evidence that their young are born immature. Hmmm. There're grasses here, sort of forming a nest. Too scattered at this point to be sure. They can't have abandoned a cave because there's an infertile egg? No fish bones, or scales. They must devour whole. Good digestions then.”

Bonnard and Kai exchanged glances over her monologue and the assorted sounds of her investigations, broadcast from the comunit.

“The nest grasses are not the rift valley type, more like the tougher fibres of the swamp growths. I wonder . . . Okay, Kai,” and her broadcast voice was augmented by the clearer tones that indicated she had left the cave, “pull me up.”

She had grasses sprouting from her leg pouches as she came over the lip of the ledge, and the egg made an unusual bulge in the front of her ship suit.

“Any sign of alarm?” she asked.

Kai, securing the winch, shook his head as Bonnard leaped to assist her out of the harness.

“Hey, their eggs are small. Can I shake it?”

“Go ahead. What's in it is long dead.”

“Why?”

Varian shrugged. “We'll let Trizein have a gawk and see if he can find out. I don't necessarily wish to fracture it. Let me have that plascovering. Kai,” and she neatly stored the egg, surrounded by the dead grasses and then brushed her gloved hands together to signify a task well completed. “That's thirsty work,” she said and led the way back to the sled where she broke out more rations.

“You know,” she said, half-way through the quick meal, “I think that each of those groups was out on various set tasks . . .”

“So we're staying around to see what they bring home?” asked Kai.

“If you don't mind?”

“No.” He inclined his head towards the juveniles, some of whom had indeed lost interest and were bumbling about the summit at the far side. “I'm enjoying the reversal of roles.”

“I wish I could get into a cave currently in use . . .”

“All in one day?”

“Yes, you're right, Kai. That's asking too much. At least, we've experienced no aggressive action from them. The adult construed my action as helpful rather than dangerous. It did accept the grass . . .”

They all glanced upward as an unusual note penetrated the sled's roof, a high pitched, sharp sustained note. The juveniles on the summit came rigidly to attention. Varian gestured to Bonnard to take the recorder but the boy was already reaching for it, doing a scan of the skies before he steadied the device on the alert young.

A mass of fliers fell from the caves, gained wing room and flew with an astonishing show of speed off into the misty south west.

“That's the direction of the sea gap. The net fishers?”

“The juveniles are clearing away,” said Bonnard. “Looks like fish for lunch to me.”

Out of the mist now appeared wing-weary giffs, barely skimming the water, rising with obvious effort to ledges where they settled, wings unclosed and drooping. Varian was certain she'd seen grass trailing from the rear claws of one. They waited, and so did the juveniles, occasionally poking at each other. Bonnard, fretting with the interval, moved towards the sled exit but Varian stopped him, just as they saw an adult giff land on their terrace.

“Don't move a muscle, Bonnard.”

The adult watched, its eyes never moving from the sled.

“Now move slowly back from the exit,” Varian told him and when he had completed the manoeuvre, she let out a deep sigh of relief. “What did I tell you the other day? You don't bother animals with their food. You sure as rakers don't bother creatures waiting for lunch, if you want to stay in good with them.”

“I'm sorry, Varian.”

“That's all right, Bonnard. You have to learn these things. Fortunately no harm's done – either to you or to our mission.” She smiled at Bannard's downcast face. “Cheer up. we've also learned something else. They haven't let up surveillance of us for one minute. And they've figured out where we enter and leave this sled. Pretty clever creatures, I'd say.”

Never taking his eyes off their guard, the boy sank to the floor of the sled.

They waited another three-quarters of an hour before Kai, remembering to keep his gesture slow, alerted them to the returning giffs. Cries raised from every quarter and so many giffs were airborne that Bonnard complained that his frames would show more furred bodies and wings than anything informative.

Bonnard and Varian saw a repetition of the previous performance as the shimmering piles of fish were spewed from the nets. The juveniles waddled in and one adult, spotting a youngster stocking up his throat pouch, tapped it smartly on the head and made it regurgitate. Kai observed another adult separating fringes from the mass, dextrously flipping them over the edge of the cliff with smart sweeps of his beak. When it had apparently completed that task on its side of the catch, it carefully scrubbed its beak against stone.

“I got that on tape, Varian,” Bonnard assured her as Kai pointed out another curiosity, an adult giff whose beak was being stuffed by others. The giff then waddled off the cliff edge, gained wing room and disappeared into one of the larger caves. Another took his place, to be filled up before flying off, this time to another large aperture. The juveniles were allowed to eat one fish at a time. There was a repeat of juvenile terror over a fringe, two fell over and were intertwined until rescued by a watching adult. Bonnard fretted at having to remain inside the sled instead of on it where he could have got much better tapes of the incident.

Gradually the supply dwindled, the juveniles losing interest and disappearing from the summit. Soon after, Varian noticed that no giffs were to be seen. They waited patiently until Kai became so restless with inactivity that Varian could not ignore the fact that they were not furthering their study of the giff by remaining either in the sled or on the terrace.

It was well past midday now. She'd enough on tapes for hours of study. Her announcement that they'd better get back to the compound met with instant action on the part of the two males. Kai checked the sled's lock for flight, motioned Bonnard to strap himself in and did so himself. Both were ready while she, laughing, was barely seated.

As she took off, she circled once more over the summit, noting that small fringes were left to bake and deteriorate on the summit. She'd answered a few of her questions, but more had been raised by the day's happenings. She was reasonably pleased with the excursion, if only because it had been something she'd wanted to do.