The Mystery of Ireta (8 page)

While the two geologists watched, the fliers began to run along what Kai now distinguished as a low bluff. They dipped almost to the grasses below before becoming safely airborne.

“They are trailing more grass, Kai.”

The leader focused the scope and saw the streamers trail- ing from hind- and wing-tip claws as the fliers beat steadily upward and away from the valley.

“Is that a seaward course they’re on, Bakkun?”

“They are. And against a stiff headwind.”

Kai turned back to the browsing predator who hadn’t paused in his voracious consumption of the grass.

“Now why would both fliers and that monster need the grass?”

“It does seem an unusual additive,” replied Bakkun, oblivious to the fact that Kai had been talking to himself.

“Would you set the sled down, Bakkun? At the other end of the valley from the beast. I want to get some samples of grass.”

“For Varian? Or Divisti?”

“Maybe for both. Strange that the predator didn’t attempt an attack, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps it does not like flier meat. Or maybe they are formidable antagonists?”

“No. There was no hint of attack in the predator’s manner, and only wary defense in the fliers. Almost as if . . . as if both recognized this as a place apart. That there was a truce here.”

“A truce? Between animals?” Bakkun sounded skeptical.

“That’s what it looked like. But the predator is certainly too primitive to operate on such a logical basis. I must ask Varian.”

“Yes, she would be the proper person to query,” said Bakkun, his composure restored. He brought the sled to a smooth landing on the low bluff the fliers had used to take off.

“We are not golden fliers,” the heavy-worlder said in response to Kai’s surprise at the landing spot. “That creature may decide to season its grass with us.” He smoothly took over the scope. “You collect. I will watch.”

The monster had not interrupted its feeding nor paid any attention to the sled. Kai dismounted with alacrity and, thumbing off his force-screen, began to gather grass. He was glad he had gloves because some of the blades had sharp edges—relatives to the sword plant, he decided. One clump came up, roots, earth and all, adding a new high to the malodorous air. Kai shook the earth free, remembering the birds had taken only the tops, not the root. Although the fliers had not gone in for the thicker-bladed vegetation, Kai took samples of everything in the vicinity. He stored what he garnered in a container and resumed his place on the sled.

“Look, he has not stopped eating grass, Kai,” said Bakkun, returning the scope to him.

As Bakkun eased the sled off the bluff and into the air, Kai kept the scope on the predator. It continued eating, not even lifting its head as the two geologists passed over it.

Bakkun, having been given no orders to the contrary, navigated the sled through the narrow end of the valley. Beyond, the ground fell away again to a lower level without such luxuriant growth, the soil being sandier and supporting more of the tough shrub-type vegetation.

“The cores continue down this valley, Kai,” said Bakkun, drawing his attention away from the monster and to the business at hand.

Kai looked at the seismic scanner. “Last one just beyond that far ridge.”

“This Rift Valley is very old,” said Bakkun. Kai was pleased to hear the half-question in the man’s voice. “And the cores end beyond the ridge?”

“Indeed they do.”

It was the first time Kai had ever heard uncertainty in a heavy-worlder’s voice. He understood it and sympathized, for he felt much the same way himself.

The overthrust above which they now passed had occurred at least a million years before their arrival on this planet. Yet the manufacture of the core unit was undeniably Thek. Unless, and the stray thought amused Kai, the Theks had somehow copied an older civilization . . . the Others? The Theks as copyists restored Kai’s sense of proportion. As he couldn’t expect to compete with heavy-worlders on a physical basis, he ought not to compete with Theks on a longevity performance. The here and now were important, too: twice, trebly important to him considering how short a span he could anticipate, even with all the miracles of science. He and his team had a job to do
now
on Ireta. Never mind that it had been done before when Man was still at the single-cell stage swimming about at the beginning of a long evolutionary climb.

4

W
ITH
the help of Paskutti and Tardma, Varian managed to dress Mabel’s flank wound. The beast had somehow managed to loosen the edges of the filmseal, and, despite the force-screen over her corral, bloodsuckers had attached themselves to the suppuration. She had opened the wound further in her frenzy to free herself from the ropes the heavy-worlders used to restrain her. They had to lash her head to her uninjured hind leg before Varian could approach her.

Fortunately, once she dislodged the bloodsuckers, Varian thought the flesh looked healthy enough.

“I’m going to wash down and seal the entire leg,” she told Paskutti, who was heaving with his exertions. “Just as well I’m vetting the bitten instead of the biter. Hate to run into him.” She thought of the wicked head and the rows of vicious teeth glaring out of the frame Kai had taken.

“This creature couldn’t put up much of a fight,” said Paskutti.

The edge to his tone surprised Varian into looking at him. She didn’t expect to see any emotion registered on the heavy-worlder’s blank features, but there was an intensity in his pale eyes that gave her a momentary stab of fear. She got the distinct impression that the man was excited in some bizarre and revolting fashion, by the wound, by the concept of one animal eating another, alive. She turned back quickly to her task, loath to let Paskutti know she’d observed him.

They completed the veterinary work on Mabel without further struggle, but her tail, when she was released from the ropes, lashed out so viciously that they all retreated hastily beyond range. Without the proximity of her well-wishers, Mabel seemed unable to continue her aggressive behavior. She stopped mid-bellow and peered about her, as if puzzled by this unexpected respite. Her near-sighted eyes scanned so consistently above their heads that once they stood still, Varian realized that Mabel would never see them. Mabel’s worst enemy then, Varian decided, was much larger than the herbivore’s considerable bulk and was generally perceived by smell to judge by the rapid dilation of Mabel’s nostrils.

“What now, Varian?” asked Paskutti as they left the corral.

In his very lack of tone color, Paskutti seemed to be impatient for her answer.

“Now, we check out what creatures inhabit the unknown land beyond the shield so that Kai and his teams can set up secondary camps. We’ve the sled today, Paskutti, so if you’d get tapes, we can do some prospecting.”

“Weaponry?”

“The usual personnel defense. We’re not hunting. We’re observing.”

She spoke more harshly than she intended because there was an avid intensity about Paskutti’s innocent question that was off-putting. Tardma was as blank as ever, but then she never did anything, including smile, without glancing for permission from Paskutti.

As they reentered the encampment for their equipment, Varian saw the children grouped about Dandy’s enclosure, watching Lunzie feed it. Its thick little tail whisked this way and that either in greed or in enjoyment.

“Is Dandy eating well?”

“Second bottle,” said Bonnard with possessive pride.

“Lunzie says we can feed him when he gets to know us a bit better,” Cleiti added, and Terilla nodded, her bright eyes big with such an incredible experience to anticipate.

Poor ship-bred wench, thought Varian, whose childhood had been spent among the animals of many worlds with her veterinarian parents. She couldn’t remember the time when she hadn’t had animals to cuddle and care for. Small creatures brought to her parents for healing or observation had always been her particular charges once her parents had decided she was a responsible youngster. The only creatures she had never liked were the Galormis. Her instinct for animals had warned her the moment those soft devils had been discovered on Aldebaran 4, but as a very junior xenob, she had had to keep her own counsel on her suspicions. At that she’d been lucky. She only had teeth marks on her arm where the Galormi that had attacked those in her dome had begun its nocturnal feeding. The creature had already killed its handler; its hollow incisors had proved to contain a paralytic with which it controlled its victims. Fortunately the night guard, alerted to trouble by the nonappearance of his relief, had roused her expedition, and the Galormis had been caught, contained and later exterminated. The planet was interdicted.

“We’ll see how Dandy behaves himself first, Terilla,” said Varian, firmly believing in an old adage, “once bitten, twice shy.” The originator had not had the Galormis in mind, but the application was apt.

“How’s Mabel?” asked Lunzie, sparing Varian a glance.

Varian told her. “We’re scouting north today. Kai’s teams will have to set up secondary camps soon, but we don’t want them encountering fang-faces, like the ones that ate Mabel. Also, the geology teams are supposed to report in if they sight any wounded beasts, so give us a toot right away, will you, Lunzie?”

The physician nodded again.

“Couldn’t we come with you, Varian?” asked Bonnard. “If you’ve the big sled? Please, Varian?”

“Not today.”

“You’re on compound duty, and you know it, Bonnard,” said Lunzie. “And lessons.”

Bonnard looked so rebellious that Varian gave him a poke in the arm, and told him to shape up. Cleiti, more sensitive to adult disapproval, nudged him in the ribs.

“We got out yesterday, Bon. We’ll go again when it’s proper.” Cleiti smiled up at Varian, though her expression was wistful.

A nice child, Cleiti, Varian thought as she and the heavy-worlders continued on to the storage shed for their equipment. Varian checked the big sled, despite the fact that Portegin had serviced it that morning.

They were airborne in good time, just after the morning’s first downpour. As seemed to be the rule on Ireta, the clouds then reluctantly parted, allowing the yellow-white sunlight to beat down. Varian’s face mask darkened in response to the change of light and she stopped squinting. Sometimes she found the curious yellow light of cloudy daytime more piercing than the full sun’s rays.

They had to fly ten kilometers beyond the radius of the encampment before the telltale began to register life forms, most of them already tagged. The “dead” perimeter had been expanding ever since they landed as if knowledge of the intruders had been slowly disseminating among the indigenous animals. This was a slow-cop world, Varian thought, for on more . . . civilized, was that the word she needed? Advanced, yes, that was more accurate. On more advanced worlds, the news of strangers seemed to waft on the outgoing wind of their descent, and inhabitants made themselves scarce . . . Unless, of course, it was an intelligent, nonviolent world where everyone gathered around to see the new arrivals. Sometimes the welcome would be discreet, not defensive nor offensive, but distant. Varian thought of the defensive screen around the domes and snorted to herself. The thing wasn’t needed—except to keep insects out. At least not under present circumstances, when the animals stayed far away. Maybe the solution to Kai’s problem was simply to establish the physical secondary camp, complete with small force-screen, give the local wildlife a chance to drift away from the area and then let his teams move in.

Yet there was fang-face! The size of him! She recalled tree tops shivering at his passage in the tape Kai had made. The main force-screen would burn him, probably dissuade him . . . there hadn’t been much animal life around those active volcanoes so creatures great and small on Ireta knew about fire and burn. The problem was that the smaller screens weren’t powerful enough to stop a determined attempt by fang-face if he were hungry, or scared, and that was what she had to allow for—the appetite of such predators as fang-face.

Varian had taped a course for the northeast, the vast high plateau ringed by the tremendous “mountains of the moon,” as Gaber had called them. Two subcontinents had ground into each other, Gaber had told her pedantically, to force high those great stone peaks. The plateau beneath them had once been ocean bed. Anyone returning to that area had been enjoined by Gaber and Trizein to look for fossils on the rock faces. It was here, at the foot of the new fold mountains, that Kai hoped to start finding pay dirt. This was well beyond the ancient corings. For some reason, the discovery of the old cores reassured Varian. Kai appeared worried about them and she couldn’t imagine why. EEC wasn’t likely to lose a planet they’d already twice explored. Besides, the Theks lived long enough to correct any mistakes they made—if they ever made any. Or maybe it was because they had time enough to correct any that it only appeared they were infallible.

Between the camp and the plateau they were heading for, with its coarse ground cover, not quite grass and not really shrub or thicket, was a wide band of rain forest through which Mabel’s ilk passed and where a fang-face was liable to lurk. Far to the east were clouds, signs of volcanic activity. Occasional claps of thunder, not meteorological in origin, rumbled to the sensors of the sled.

They spotted one set of circling scavengers and landed to investigate, but the prey had long since been reduced to a bony structure. Any evidence of beast-gouging was long gone. The dead weren’t carrion long on Ireta. Tenacious insects were riddling the skeleton with industrious pinchers so that even the bones would be gone in the next day. The tougher skull was intact, and Varian, first spraying with antiseptic, examined it.

“One like Mabel?” Paskutti asked as Varian turned the skull from side to side with her boot.

“Crested at any rate. See, the nasal passage extends . . . I’d say Mabel and her kind smell a lot better than they see. Remember her performance this morning?”

“Everything smells on this planet,” replied Paskutti with enough vehemence to cause Varian to look up. She thought he was being humorous, but he was deadly serious.