Who else can you do? asked Bonnard.
Cleidi shrugged. Who did you want?
Not now, kids. Later. I want tape on this phenomenon.
The three youngsters immediately took their assigned stations as the sled followed the burdened fliers towards the distant cliffs. Varian had time to dwell on the subtler implications of the fliers' fishing. The creatures were quite obviously the most intelligent species she had encountered on Ireta. Nor had she come across another cooperative avian race: at least, at this level. Bannard's xenob was not accurate in saying that intelligent avian life was rare: dominant intelligent avian life was, however. So often winged life was in such desperate competition with ground based life for the same foods that all their energies had to be directed to the procurement of food, or the preservation of the home nest, and the succour of the young. When a life form specialized, dropping the forearm with manipulative skill for the wing of retreat, they lost a tremendous advantage in the battle of survival.
The golden fliers of Ireta seemed to have managed to retain the vestigial hand without expense to the wing, thus used their flight advantage beautifully.
Occasionally smaller fish fell from the nets, back into the sea, to cause more frothing as the submarine denizens struggled to secure the prizes. Twice, immense heads rolled avidly up from the deeps, futilely as the fliers passed with their tempting loads.
Now the four observers saw additional fliers materializing from the cloudy skies, swooping down to take positions along the edges of the nets, supporting the load and relieving the first fishers. Thus assisted, the formation picked up speed.
How fast are they going now, Varian? asked Bonnard for the xenob had been carefully matching the forward motion, staying behind but above the fliers.
With this tail wind, I make it twenty kph, but I think they'll gain air speed with all this reinforcement.
They're so beautiful, said Terilla softly. Even hard at work, they're graceful and see how they gleam.
They look as if they were travelling in their own personal sunlight, said Cleiti, but there's no sun.
Yeah, what's with this crazy planet? said Bonnard. It stinks and there's never any sun. I did want to see a sun when I got a chance.
Well, here's your moment, said Terilla, crowing with delight as the unpredictable happened and the clouds parted to a glimpse of the green sky and the white-hot yellow sun.
Varian laughed with the others and almost wished that the face-masks didn't adjust instantly for the change in light. The only way she knew that there was sun at the moment were the shadows on the sea.
We're being followed! Bannard's amused tone held a note of awe.
Huge submarine bodies now launched up and slammed down on the shadow which the air sled cast on the waters behind it.
I'm glad we're ahead of them, Cleiti said in a small voice.
There's the biggest crazy I've ever seen! Bonnard sounded so startled that Varian turned round.
What was it, Bonnard?
I couldn't tell you. I've never seen anything like it in all my born days, Varian.
Was the taper on it?
Not on that, said Terilla, apologetically. Forward, on the fliers.
Here, let me have it, Ter. I know where to point. Bonnard assumed control and Terilla moved aside.
It's like a flat piece of fabric, Varian, Bonnard was saying as he sighted across the stern of the sled. The edges flutter and then . . . it sort of turns over on itself! Here comes another!
The girls gave small squeals of revulsion and delighted fear. Varian slewed round in the pilot seat and caught a glimpse of something grey-blue which did, as Bonnard said, flutter like a fabric caught in a strong breeze. She caught sight of two points half-way up one side (like claws?), then the creature flipped over, end for end, and entered the water with more of a swish than a splash, as Cleiti put it.
How big would you say it was, Bonnard?
I'd judge about a metre on each side but it kept switching. I've got good tapes of that last leap. I set the speed half again higher so you can play back for more detail.
That's using your head, Bonnard.
Here comes another! Rakers! Look at the speed on that thing!
I'd rather not, said Terilla. How does it know we're here? I don't see any sort of eyes or antenna or anything. It can't see the shadows.
The fringes? asked Bonnard. Sonar?
Not for leaping out of water, replied Varian. We'll possibly find out how it perceives us when we can replay. Rather interesting. And were those claws I saw? Two of them?
That's bad? Bonnard had caught the puzzled note in her voice.
Not bad, Bonnard, but damned unusual. The fliers, the herbivores and the predators are pentadactyl which isn't an unlikely evolution, but two digits on a side flange?
I saw flying longies once," said Cleiti in a bright helpful voice. "They were a metre long and they undulated. No feet at all, but they could ripple along in the air for kilometres."
Light gravity planet?
Yes, Varian, and dry!
The sun had slunk behind the clouds again and the thin noonday drizzle settled in so that the others laughed at her sour comment.
Digits are important in evolution, aren't they, Varian? asked Bonnard.
Very. You can have intelligent life, like those avians, but until a species becomes a tool user, they don't have much chance of rising above their environment.
The fliers have, haven't they? asked Bonnard with a broad grin for his play on words.
Yes, Bonnard, they have, she replied with a laugh.
I heard about them being in the rift valley, with grasses? Bonnard went on. Is this why they got that type of grass? To make the nets?
There was a lot of thick tough grass around the place where we saved Dandy, and that was a lot closer for them, said Cleiti.
You're right there, Cleiti. I've thought the fliers might need the rift valley grass for some dietary requirement.
I have some of the vegetation from the grove of fruit trees, Varian, said Terilla.
You do? That's great. We can do some real investigation. How clever of you, Terilla.
Not clever, you know me and plants, said the girl, but her cheeks were flushed with reaction to the praise.
I take back what I said about your stupid plants, said Bonnard with unusual magnaminity.
I'll be very keen to see how mature their young are? Varian said, having quietly considered the curious habits of the golden creatures for a few minutes.
How mature? Their young? Isn't that a contradiction? asked Bonnard.
Not really. You are born very young . . .
Cleiti giggled. Everyone is, or you wouldn't be young . . .
I don't mean age, I mean ability, Cleiti. Now, let's see what comparisons I can draw for you ship-bred . . .
I lived my first four years on a planet, said Terilla.
Did you? Which one?
Arthos in the Aurigae section. I've touched down on two more and stayed for months.
And what animals did you see on Arthos? Varian knew but Terilla so seldom volunteered any information, or had a chance to with such aggressive personalities as Cleiti and Bonnard.
We had milk cows, and four-legged dogs, and horses. Then there were six-legged dogs, offoxes, cantileps and spurges.
Seen any tape on cows, dogs and horses, Cleiti? Bonnard?
Sure!
All right, cows and horses bear live young who are able to rise to their feet about a half hour after birth and, if necessary, run with their dams. They are therefore born mature and already programmed for certain instinctive actions and responses. You and I were born quite small and physically immature. We had to be taught by our parents or guardians how to eat, walk, run and talk, and take care of ourselves.
So? Bonnard regarded Varian steadily, waiting for the point of her disgression.
So, the horse and cow don't learn a lot from their parent's: not much versatility or adaptability is required of them. Whereas human babies . . .