Ireta 02 - [Dinosaur Planet 02] - Dinosaur Planet Survivors (6 page)

“They don’t like comparisons—” Lunzie remarked.

“Say, sixty to seventy 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 undercarriage. 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 dawn 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 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. Without 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 gilding 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 treetops, 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 as to make it unlikely as prey. No one could accuse the Thek of being emotional or 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!