Ireta 02 - [Dinosaur Planet 02] - Dinosaur Planet Survivors (3 page)

Kai peered at the cliffs through the screening leaves. The giffs were settling in to watch.

“So we wait until dark, when they’ve all gone to roost or whatever giffs do at night. Here, have another hadrosaur nut!”

“My, aren’t we brave! Natural food!”

They had to break the tough shell of the nut between two stones before they got to an irregular pale brown kernel. Varian looked at it curiously, sniffed and broke off a fragment. She grimaced at its taste and chewed it thoughtfully before swallowing.

“Maybe you have to acquire a taste for ’em,” she said, inspecting the remainder of the kernel. Then she flipped it over her shoulder and smiled reassuringly at Kai’s anxious expression. “I’ll opt for the melon. You can taste that.”

They had finished the sweet and juicy melon when they heard a whistling, bugling commotion. Varian sprang to the break in the vegetation, Kai just behind her.

The fishers had returned and all the adult giffs were assisting the net carriers. Varian remarked that either the community hadn’t expanded much or fishing and carrying were limited to certain giffs. The two humans watched as the heavy woven grass nets were lowered and emptied on the flat surface that served the giffs as central food dump. There was a great coming and going as giffs filled their food pouches and delivered the day’s catch to the cave- or nest-bound. The greed of the younger giffs was supervised by their elders.

“If only . . .” Varian began through gritted teeth and, sighing with frustration, she sat back against the tree trunk. Resignedly, Kai joined her. Despite the confusion of feeding, they could not have returned to the cave unnoticed. Then she grinned at Kai with a resurgence of her usual wry humor. “I wonder what they’d make of the Thek if it appeared?”

As they waited, rain fell in torrents again. The sun shone to make the jungle a steaming bath which they had to endure. Eventually they dozed.

It was the silence that roused them, for the wind had briefly abated at sunset. Disoriented, they struggled to their feet, staring uncertainly at each other in the fading light.

“The watchers are still watching!” Varian commented after peering through the leaves.

Nine golden fliers perched at various levels of the adjoining cliffs, all heads turned in one direction.

“Can they
see
us here?” Kai asked in a muted voice. “Or smell us?”

“Not when we’re downwind of them. I can’t believe they’d be aware of us.” Varian did not sound certain. “That’s not within the capability of their species. Smell—that’s debatable. I think they rely heavily on sight. And I don’t think that extrasensory gifts are a likely development on this planet.”

“Comparing them to the Ryxi?”

“No, to what Trizein said about the primeval Terran life-forms they resemble.” She slapped her hand against her knee. “If only we hadn’t kept that man walled up in his lab, we might have resolved at least one of this planet’s anomalies. How could creatures that lived in Mesozoic Terra come to be here on Ireta? Every xenobiologist in the FSP
knows
identical life-forms cannot spontaneously, develop on distant planets—no matter how similar the worlds and their primaries!”

“Does that observation offer any clue as to how
we
can get back to our cave and Tor? I don’t fancy rappelling down a vine in the darkness.”

“Nor do I.” Varian straightened suddenly. “Wait a sec! Before we slept, Triv and the others were back and forth to the ravine collecting for the synthesizer. The giffs were only interested: they watched, as I remember, and were certainly not aggressive. But—” and she shook her forefinger, emphasizing the condition—“they are protective of their young. Extend that and it’s just possible that they’re protecting the cave because it’s within their territory.”

“You mean they got protective over
us
after a single meeting and a few furtive vegetable raids?”

“It’s possible. If only we knew how long we had slept! However,” and Varian pointed at him, “
if
the heavyworlders got here, and were their usual aggressive selves while trying to find the space shuttle, the giffs would resent such an intrusion. Well, let’s say they did. So it is the heavyworlders who changed the giffs’ passive curiosity into active aggression. Only . . . that doesn’t really explain the vine screen! Protectiveness can be conditioned, learned. Giffs
are
the smartest creatures we’ve met on Ireta, but could they be
that
intelligent? I don’t think they’ve progressed that far.”

Kai could only shrug as her voice trailed off: he knew little xenopsychology.

“Isn’t that a mist rising?” Varian asked, straining to see in the gathering gloom of Ireta’s swift twilight. “That might give us cover.”

They watched eagerly as mist swirled up from the sea and over the cliff edge, but they hadn’t taken more than ten paces from cover before four winged objects hurtled toward them, beaks ajar, wing talons extended. Varian and Kai reached shelter as giff claws tore strips from the leaves over their heads.

“How did they know? They couldn’t bloody see!” Kai demanded when he recovered his breath.

“Sound!” Varian regarded her boots in disgust. She stamped a boot contemptuously. “These broadcast our movements. To demonstrate . . .”

She located a handful of loose chippings and threw them out onto the cliff. Though they knew they were safe, they both ducked at the whirr of wings as the giffs responded to the sounds.

“So?” asked Kai.

“So, while we’re waiting . . .”

“How long is that likely to be now?”

“Giffs are not nocturnal. Sooner or later, habit is going to be too strong for them and they’ll want to get back to their nests. Particularly,” she added at his skeptical expression, “if we give them reason to doubt our continued presence here. Like a small avalanche down the ravine . . .”

“Ah . . .”

“Then, with our boots off, we tiptoe quietly home . . .”

“
Sounds
simple enough.”

“I know.” Her tone admitted that simple plans can suddenly develop serious flaws.

Nevertheless, they began quietly searching the ravine edge for a suitable natural slide. They then dammed it with a fallen branch to which they attached a vine. It was difficult to find enough stones and rubble to place behind the branch. Once a small shower cascaded into the ravine, and they suspended all movement until the whirr of wings disappeared. They worked quickly for Ireta’s night would soon complicate things. As it was, they finished the last of their arrangements in the dark. Removing their boots, they secured them to the blanket packs across their shoulders.

“I have a sudden negative thought,” said Varian her lips against Kai’s ears. “I can’t remember how far it is to the edged of the cliff. We won’t be able to see until we’re there—or over it.”

Kai contemplated that hazard. “Well, it’s not going to make any difference when we try to cross in the dark, is it? So, if they’re diurnal, they might just fall asleep if we give ’em enough time. Then . . .” he paused as a sudden notion occurred to him, “why not lengthen this release vine and go as far as we can, and make our avalanche when and if we need a diversion?”

Varian gave his head a quick squeeze and then turned to cut more vine. In whispered consultation, they estimated that the edge of the cliff was about thirty meters away, so Varian knotted sufficient vine to approximate that length.

Waiting in darkness punctuated by the noises of night creatures which nibbled, squeaked, and scrabbled was most tedious. Kai practiced the Disciplined breathing that calmed nerves, and exerted the strength of patience on an overactive imagination. Tiny noises in infinite variety assumed a menacing quality despite the slightness of sound. He could feel Varian, beside him, practicing the same exercises and was subtly comforted.

Varian’s sudden disappearance from his side startled him.

“No mist, and only three sleepy bird watchers,” was her quiet murmur in his ear a moment later.

“We go?”

Her answer was a hand on his, then she stepped in front of him, slowly parting the vegetation as he followed, playing out the release line as she cleared the way.

Although the vines lay in thick profusion along the cliff top, there was sufficient space between tendrils to allow their bare feet a reassuring contact with the cooling stone. Bent in a semicrouch, Kai watched Varian’s white feet as they moved forward, always angled back in the direction of the ravine. He kept the line as taut as he dared. Varian, one hand lightly touching his shoulder, kept her eyes on the curiously luminous forms of the giffs, whose crested heads were turned toward the ravine. Their wings were folded. Kai wondered if they kept from falling over by clutching the rock with their wing-joint talons. They were so motionless, they had to be asleep.

There are many aspects of time, Kai thought grimly as he and Varian continued their stealthy, seemingly infinite journey. There is the objective time lost in cold sleep, which might have been centuries or only a few years. But the variety of time he was now experiencing was definitely hard to endure subjectively. His leg muscles began to twitch with the cramp of controlled motion. His hands were starting to sweat with a fear that an inadvertent tug would break the vine or that he wouldn’t be able to release the key log to provide the crucial diversion.

Abruptly Varian stopped, twisted her torso to put her mouth to his ear.

“Kai, we’ve got to find the vines we used this morning. They’ll be to our right. I can’t see, but I feel we should move that way.”

Kai glanced nervously at the sleeping giffs, now slightly to the right and behind them. Varian plucked at his sleeve, and he followed her light guidance, sliding his feet carefully over vines to the stone interstices. He almost fell over Varian when she crouched suddenly, and it took all his control not to jerk on the release line. He was also startled by the realization that only two more loops remained in his hand. As he turned to warn her, they bumped noses.

“I’m almost out of vine.”

“I’ve found ours. I think.” Varian took his left hand and placed it on the thick stem. She moved beyond his reach, but he could see her nod that she’d found her vine and he should move on down.

Kai forced Discipline on himself, willing the tension out of his blood and tissue. Then there was only a short piece of vine left in his hand, the final edge tickling as it curled into his palm.

“Varian!”

The white blur of face turned to him. He knew she’d seen his upraised hand, she made a thumbs-up gesture and crouched to run, her hand along the vine that would take her over the cliff and into sanctuary.

He pulled as firm and hard as he could, felt something vibrate along the length of the line. Then he began to run, hands before him on the rough vine trunk, counting his steps. Wouldn’t do to hurtle over the cliff.

The rumble of the stones cascading into the ravine startled him so much that he nearly lost count of his strides. The giffs roused with a squawk. He looked back at them. To his relief, their heads were turned away and their motion was upward.

“I’m at the edge, Kai!” Varian’s voice was low but intense.

He found it, too, just as his leading foot slipped into a crevice. Then he closed his hands about the fat vine and, in blind faith that it was the right one, began to scramble down it. He scraped his knuckles against the cliff wall and then swung into free air, as the vine curved inward, still secured to the shuttle docking brace.

“Krims! I grabbed the wrong one,” Varian suddenly exclaimed.

“Swing near me, Varian. I’ll catch you!”

“No!”

He heard that defiant negative above the screams of the giffs. Only the Discipline that had been instilled in them both, that one leader must survive, forced him to continue down his vine until he was inside the cave and knew it was safe to let go. He staggered to his feet, able to distinguish the cave mouth by the slightly brighter darkness.

“Varian!”

“I’m to your right. I got the wrong vine. It’s too short. Can you see me?”

He couldn’t. The curtain of vines hid her. “Can you grab the next vine? Shake it!”

Tracing the sound, he found the agitated vine and hauled it back into the cave, bracing it.

“Okay, switch and slide!”

When her feet touched him, he guided her legs to the ground. They clung together, trembling with a reaction neither bothered to Discipline.

Then, hand in hand, they moved to the curved bow of the shuttle, unslung their improvised packs, carefully removing the fruit and nuts. Then they curled up together in the blankets and were almost instantly asleep.

3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The core was there!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shook her head and turned her mind to more productive channels. If Tor had actually bestirred itself to investigate their situation, even if only for the sake of that ancient core, they could eventually expect adequate assistance. Nor had they been planted. Had they been, Tor would not have intervened no matter how eager the Theks were to acquire the core. She hoped that the object gave the Theks a hard time:
ARCT-10
’s computer records, which supposedly included much of the stored knowledge of the incredibly ancient Thek communities, had indicated no previous exploration of Ireta. Yet once Portegin had assembled and activated the seismic screen to read the soil and rock analyses of the new cores laid by the three geological teams, faint signals had shown up along the entire continental shelf: signals indicating the presence of cores on a planet reportedly never before explored. Kai and Gaber had unearthed one. Though its signal was weak, it hadn’t differed from the new cores the geologists were planting. It had felt
old
to Varian. And it was obviously of Thek manufacture. The presence of an ancient network on the continental shelf did explain the absence of mineral deposits; obviously the planet had already been worked. Once the geologists ventured beyond the shelf to the tectonically unstable areas, the cores did what they were designed to do: register massive deposits that the shifting plates of the heaving planet had thrown up from its very active thermal core.