Faults, said Gaber, slipping a scale transparency over the seismic map. I read a massive overthrust here. Good area to search now but any seismimic would have been crushed. Or subsided too far below the surface to transmit.
Triv, you and Margit explore that overthrust today. Aulia and Dimenon, your sector is here, and he gave them the coordinates in the south-west, and to Berru and Portegin, explaining that he and Bakkun would try to explore the Rift Valley since there were old cores leading up to it. He stressed that they maintain safety procedures, tag or telltale animals when possible, and note and report any scavengers circling over what could be injured livestock specimens for Varian.
As Kai and Bakkun lifted in their sled, Kai saw Varian on her way down to the corral. He saw the herbivore, Mabel, busily eating her way through what trees remained in the enclosure.
Bakkun, who preferred to pilot, brought the sled on its south-east heading.
Why didn't our Theks know this planet'd been cored? the heavy-worlder asked.
I haven't asked our Theks if they know. But Ireta was not marked as surveyed.
Theks have their reasons.
Such as?
I do not presume to guess, replied Bakkun, but they always have good reasons.
Kai liked Bakkun as a team mate: he was inexhaustible, coolheaded like all his race, thorough and dependable. But he had no imagination, no flexibility and once convinced of anything, refused to change his opinion in the face of the most telling facts. Theks were, to him as to many of the short-spanned species, infallible and godlike. Kai did not wish, however, to enter into any argument with Bakkun, particularly on such a heresy as Thek fallibility proven in the existence of seismic cores on this planet.
Fortunately the telltale bleeped. Bakkun automatically corrected course and Kai watched the remote-distance screen attentively. This time it was more herbivores, running away from the sled's whine, through the thick rain forest, occasionally careering off trees so hard the top branches shuddered wildly.
Come round again, Bakkun, Kai asked and flipped up the tape switch, hanging in against his seat strap as Bakkun acted promptly to his order. He swore under his breath because none of the creatures crossed any of the clearings, almost as if they expected an aerial attack and were crowding under whatever cover they could find.
Never mind, Bakkun. Continue on course. I thought I saw another flank-damaged beast.
We see them daily, Kai.
Why didn't you mention it in your reports?
Didn't know it was important, Kai. Too much else to mention bearing on our job . . .
This is a joint effort . . .
Agreed, but I must know how to contribute. I didn't know the mere ecological balances were essential knowledge, too.
My omission. But you would do well to report any unusual occurrence.
It is my impression, Kai, that there is nothing usual about Ireta. I have been a geologist for many standard years now and I have never encountered a planet constantly in a Mesozoic age and unlikely to evolve beyond that stage. Bakkun gave Kai a sideways glance, sly and mysterious. Who would expect to find old cores registering on such a planet?
Expect the unexpected! That's the unofficial motto of our profession, isn't it?
The sun, having briefly appeared in the early morning to oversee the beginnings of day, now retired behind clouds. A local ground fog made flying momentarily difficult so conversation was discontinued. Kai busied himself with the seismic overlay, checking the old cores which faintly glowed on the
screen in response to his signal.
The cores advanced beyond the line of flight, right down into the rift valley, subsiding with the floor which composed the wide plateau. They were entering the valley now and Bakkun needed all his attention on his flying as the thermals caught the light sled and bounced it around. Once past the line of ancient volcanoes, their plugged peaks gaunt fingers to the now lowering rainclouds, their slopes supporting marginal vegetation, Bakkun guided the sled towards the central rift valley. The face of the fault block exposed the various strata of the uplift that had formed the valley. As the little sled zipped past, saucily irreverent of the frozen geohistory, Kai was filled with a mixture of awe and amusement: awe of the great forces still working which had formed the rift and might very well reform it times imaginable in the existence of this planet; and amusement that Man dared to pinpoint one tiny moment of those inexorable courses and attempt to put his mark upon it.
Scavengers, Kai, said Bakkun, breaking in on his thoughts. Bakkun gestured slightly starboard by the bow. Kai sighted the display on the scope.
It's the golden fliers, not scavengers.
There is a difference?
Indeed there is, but what are they doing a couple of hundred kilometres from the nearest large water?
Are they dangerous? asked Bakkun, with a show of interest.
I don't think so. They are intelligent, showed curiosity in us yesterday, but what are they doing so far inland?
We shall soon know. We're closing fast.
Kai slanted the scope to take in the groups on the ground. The fliers were now alerted to the presence of an unfamiliar aerial object and all the heads were turned upward. Kai saw threads of coarse grass hanging from several beaks. And, sure enough, as the sled circled, their elongated heads curiously followed its course. Some of the smaller fliers pecked again at the grass.
Why would they have to come so far? For a grass?
I am not xeno-biologically trained, said Bakkun in his stolid fashion. Then his voice took on a note of such unusual urgency that Kai swung round, scope and all and instinctively recoiled against the seatback. Look?
What the . . .
The rift valley narrowed slightly where a horst protruded and, from the narrow defile, emerged one of the largest creatures that Kai had ever seen, its stalky, awkward gait frightening in its inexorable progress. Sharpening the scope for the increased distance, Kai watched as the colossus strutted on its huge hindlegs into the peaceful valley.
Krim! That's one of those fang-faced predators.
Observe the fliers, Kai!
Loathe to withdraw his wary observation of the menace, Kai glanced up towards the golden fliers. They had assumed a curiously defensive formation in the sky. Those still grounded now grazed, if that could be considered a proper description for the quick scooping jabs. Varian must be right about the bill pouches, Kai realized, for the fliers' beaks had an elongated appearance. They must be stuffing the grasses into the pouches.
The predator has seen them! Those still on the ground cannot get airborne in time if he should charge. Bakkun's hand closed on the grip of the laser unit.
Wait! Look at him!
The heavy predatory head was now pointed in the direction of the fliers, as if the beast had just noticed their presence. The head tilted up, evidently registering the formation of the golden fliers. The creature's front legs, ludicrously small in comparison to the huge thighs and the length of the leg bone, twitched. The thick, counterbalancing tail also lashed in reaction to the presence of the fliers. Almost greedily, Kai thought. The biped remained stationery for another long moment and then dropped awkwardly forward, and began scooping up the grasses with its ridiculous forepaws, cramming great wads, roots, earth and all, into its huge maw.
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 trailing 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 head wind.
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 that beast. I want to get some samples of grass.
For Varian? Or Divisti?
Maybe for both. Strange that the predator didn't attempt to attack, isn't it?
Perhaps it does not like flier meat. Or they are formidable antagonists?
No. There was no hint of attack in the predator's manner, and only wary defence 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 sceptical.
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, and 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 malodourous 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 his garnering in a container and resumed his place on the sled.
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.
Oh?
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 previous to 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 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 the 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 medical 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.
CHAPTER FOUR
With the help of Paskutti and Tardma, Varian managed to dress Mabels flank wound. The beast had somehow managed to loosen the edges of the filmseal and, despite the force-screen over her corral, blood-suckers 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 blood-suckers, 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, loathe to let Paskutti know she'd observed him.
They completed the veterinary 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 behaviour. 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 self, and generally perceived by smell to judge by the rapid dilation of Mabel's nostrils, and from a distance." What now, Varian?" asked Paskutti as they left the corral.
In his very lack of tone colour, 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 make 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 re-entered 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-bound 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 Galormis which 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 non-appearance of his relief, had roused the 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 kilometres 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, non-violent 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 neededexcept 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 wild-life 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 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 north-east, 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 discoverey 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 madeif 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 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 of volcanic activity, and occasional thunders, not meteorological in origin, rumbled to the sensors of the sled.
They spotted one set of circling scavengers and landed to investigate, but the creature had long since been reduced to a bony structure, any evidence of beast-gouging long gone. The dead weren't carrion long on Ireta. Tenacious insects were riddling the skeleton with industrious pinchers so that 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? asked Paskutti 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 humourous: he was deadly serious.
Yes, the place stinks but if she's used it, she'd catch the overlying odours and take appropriate action. Yes, it's her nose that's her first line of defence.
She took some three dimension close-ups, and broke off, with some effort, a piece of the nasal cartilage and a sliver of bone, for later study. The skull was too cumbersome to transport.
The scavengers stayed aloft, but as soon as Varian lifted the sled they descended as if they hoped the intruders had discovered something they'd missed in the well-picked carcass.
Waste not, want not, Varian muttered under his breath. Life and death on Ireta moved swiftly. Small wonder that Mabel, grievously wounded though she was, had struggled to stay on her feet. Once down, the wounded seldom rose. Had she done Mabel any favours, succouring her so? Or had they merely postponed her early death? No, the wound was healing: the gouging teeth had not incapacitated muscle or broken bone. She'd live and, in time, be completely whole again.
The sled now approached the general grazing area where they'd found Mabel. Varian cut out the main engine, setting it to hover. The herd was there, all right. Varian caught sight of the mottled hides under broad and dripping tree leaves, down-wind of the creatures. They'd been too precipitous before and scared the herd off, with the exception of Mabel who hadn't been able to run fast enough.
Varian wondered at the intelligence level of the herbivores. You'd think this species would have learned to set out sentinels, the way animals on other inimicable worlds did, to forewarn the main herd of the arrival of dangerous predators. No, the size of the brain in that bare skull had been small, too small, Varian realized, to guide that great beast. A tail brain, perhaps? Long ago, far away, she'd heard of that combination. Not uncommon to have a secondary motor control unit in so large a beast. And then the nasal passages had pushed the brain case back. More smell than sense, that was Mabel!
I see one, flank damaged, said Tardma, peering over the port side. Recent attack!
Varian sighted in on Tardma's beast and suppressed a shudder. She saw the bloodied mess of flank and wondered at the stoicism of the injured beast, chomping away at tree leaves. Hunger transcending pain, she thought. That's the dominant quest on this planet, the ease of hunger.
There is another one. An older wound, Paskutti said, touching Varian's shoulder to direct her attention.
The wound on the second beast was scabbed over, but when she intensified the magnification she could see the squirming life that was parasitic to the wound. Occasionally the herbivore interrupted its feeding to gnaw at its flank, and masses of the parasites were dropping of, their hold on the raw flesh loosened.
Slowly moving and staying down-wind of the herd, they made their survey. With few exceptions. the herbivores all displayed the gruesome flank gouges. And the exceptions were the young, the smaller specimens.
They can run faster? asked Tardma.
Not juicy enough, more likely, replied Varian.
Protected by the adults? asked Paskutti. You remember that the smallest ones ran in the centre of the herd when we first encountered this species.
I'd still like to know why . . .
We may find out now. said Paskutti, pointing below.
At the furthest edge of the rain forest, one of the herbivores had stopped eating and had stretched itself up on its hindlegs, its crested head pointing steadily north. It dropped suddenly, wheeling, emitting a snorting kind of whistle as it began to run due south. Another beast, not alarmed by the departure of the first, seemed to catch the same scent. It too, whistled, dropped to all fours and began to trundle south. One by one, independently, the herbivores moved away, the smaller ones following the elders, and gradually overtaking them. The whistles grew more noisy, frightened.
We wait? asked Tardma, her blunt fingers twitching on the controls.
Yes, we wait, said Varian, uncomfortably aware of the suppressed eagerness in Tardma's manner.
They didn't have long to wait. They heard the crashing approach some seconds before seeing it, a pacing creature, head low, short forepaws extended as it ran, its thick heavy tail counterbalancing the heavy body. The big jawed mouth was open, saliva foaming through but not obscuring the rows of spikey teeth. As it ran past the hovering sled, Varian saw its eyes, the hungry little eyes, the vicious eyes of the predator.
Are we following? asked Tardma, her voice curiously breathy.
Yes.
To stop the ecological balance? asked Puskutti.
Balance? What that creature does is not balance, That's not killing for need: that's maiming for pleasure.
Varian felt herself inwardly shaking with the force of her words. She ought not to get so upset.
Perhaps, perhaps not, said Paskutti and started the drive, to follow the predator.
Though it was not always in the scope, its course was easily followed by the broken or shaking trees, the sudden flurries of avian life forms or the startled scampering of small ground creatures. Its speed was considerably more than the lumbering herbivores and it was only a matter of time before it overcame the distance between them. If Varian found herself responding to the chase stimulus with quickened breath, dry throat and internal quivering, she was astounded by the metamorphosic of the heavy-worlders. For the first time since she had worked with them, they were displaying emotion: their faces contorted with an excitement, a lust, an avidity that had nothing to do with civilized reactions.
Varian was appalled and had she been at the controls instead of Paskutti, she would have veered away from the finale of this chase. That, in itself, would have been an act to undermine her authority over the heavy-worlders. They were tolerant of light gravity physical limitations, but they would have been contemptuous of moral cowardice. She had, after all, Varian realized, organized this expedition to discover how dangerous the predator was to the herbivores and to secondary camps. She couldn't turn aside because of squeamishness. And she didn't understand her own reactions. She'd seen more hideous forms of death, worse battles of animal against animal.
The predator had caught up with the main herd. It singled out one beast, pursuing the terrified animal into a culde-sac caused by fallen trees. Frantic, the herbivore tried to climb the trunks but it had ineffectual forefeet for such exercise and too much bulk for the logs to sustain. Bleating and whistling, it slid into its predator's grasp. With one mighty blow of a hindleg, the carnivore downed the fright-paralyzed herbivore. The predator measured a distance on the quivering flank; its front paws, far smaller than the massive hindlegs, were almost obscene in this gesture. The herbivore screamed as the predator's teeth sank into the flank and ripped off a hideous mouthful. Varian wanted to retch.
Frighten that horror away, Paskutti. Kill it!
You can't rescue all the herbivores on this world by killing one predator, said Paskutti, his eyes on the scene below, shining with what Varian recognized as a blood lust.
I'm not rescuing all of them, just this one, she cried, reaching for the controls.
Paskutti, his face once more settling into the more farniliar, emotionless lines, switched the sled to full power and dove at the carnivore which was settling itself for a second rending bite. As the sled's exhaust singed it head skin, it roared. Rearing up, counterbalanced by the huge tail, it tried to grab at the sled.