I've the recorder directed on the main summit. There's quite a bit of activity here right now. I can't see what it's all about . . . Oh, yes, I do. It's the adults. I'd swear . . . yes . . . they're calling this lot.
As reluctantly as any curious young creature, the juvenile giffs began to lumber awkwardly away, disappearing so suddenly that Bonnard cried out in alarm.
They're okay, Bonnard, said Varian who had a better view. We're right on the cliff edge. They've just walked off it and if you'll glance over your shoulder, you'll see them soaring away, perfectly safe.
Muhlah! exclaimed Kai with utter disgust. We had 'em close enough and didn't telltag 'em.
What? And scare them into bringing momma and dad down on us? We don't really need to telltag giffs anyway, Kai. We know where they live, and how far they range. She patted the recorder. And I've got their faces all on tape.
"They sure had a good enough look at ours," said Bonnard." I wonder if they'll remember us next time."
All furless, crestless faces look the same, said Varian with a laugh.
She was moving about the sled now without restraint and handed each a bar of subsistence protein. She perched on the pilot chair to munch hers.
When they had finished eating, joking about the manner of their awakening, they made ready to leave the sled. Kai and Bonnard carried the recorders and additional tapes, Varian had her gift of the grasses. Kai also wore a stunner, hoping he wouldn't have to use it. Not, he thought privately, that he'd have much chance the way those giffs could move.
As they emerged, the sun came through the cloud cover, for its morning inspection, Bonnard said. From the caves in the cliffs came hundreds and hundreds of golden fliers, as if called inexorably by the thin thread of sunlight. Bonnard quickly aimed the recorder and caught the spectacle of hundreds of giffs, wings raised, beaks open, carolling a curious warble as they turned in the sparse sunlight.
Ever seen anything like that before, Varian? asked Kai in amazement.
Not quite like that. Oh, they are beautiful creatures. Quick, Bonnard, on the third terrace to the left, get that lot?
The giffs, one after the other, dropped off the ledge, wings spreading and lifting, soaring, turning over, as if letting each part of their bodies bathe in the sunlight. It was a slow aerial dance that held the observers spellbound.
They've got their eyes closed, Bonnard said, peering through the focusing lens of the recorder. Hope they know where they're going.
They probably have some sort of radar perception, said Varian. She increased her face-mask's magnification to observe more closely. I wonder . . . are their eyes closed for some mystical reason? Or simply because the sun is strong?
Carotene is good for your eyes, said Bonnard
Varian tried to recall if she'd ever seen a fang-face or one of the herbivores squint or close their eyes completely during sunshine. She couldn't remember. Full sunlight was a rare enough occasion so that all human eyes were invariably on the sun. She'd check the tapes out when she got back to the camp.
Now, look Varian, only some of 'em are doing the flying act, said Bonnard. He had swung around, recorder still operating, and focused on the juvenile giffs scratching about on the fish summit.
One of them let out a squawk, tried to back away from something and, overbalancing, fell back. Its companions regarded it for a long moment as it lay, flapping helplessly.
Without thinking, Varian began to climb towards the summit to assist the creature. She had put her hand over the top, when an adult giff, with a cry shrill enough to be a command, landed on the summit, awkwardly turning towards Varian. When she judiciously halted her climbing, the giff deftly flipped the juvenile to its feet with the wing claws. The wing remained a protective envelope above the young giff.
Okay, I get the message, loud and clear, said Varian.
A second grating sound issued from the adult giff whose eyes never left Varian.
Varian! Kai's call was warning and command.
I'm all right. I've just been told to keep my distance.
Make it more distance, Varian. I'm covering you.
It would have attacked me if it was going to, Kai. Don't show the stunner.
How would they know what a stunner is? asked Bonnard.
Point! I'm going to offer the grass. And slowly Varian took the rift grasses from her leg pouch and with great care held up the sheaf for the giff to see.
The creature's eyes did not leave hers but Varian sensed that the grass had been noticed. She moved her hand slowly, to place the sheaf on the top of the summit. The giff made another grating noise, softer, less aggressive in tone
You're very welcome, said Varian, and heard Bannard's snort of disgust. Courtesy is never wasted, Bonnard. Tone conveys its own message. So does gesture. This creature understands a certain amount from both what I'm doing and what I'm saying.
She had begun to descend to the sled's terrace level now, moving deliberately and never taking her eyes from the giff. As soon as she was back, standing with Kai and Bonnard, the adult giff waddled forward, took up the grass and then, returning to the sea-edge, dropped off. Once it had sufficient wing room, it soared up again and out of sight among the other fliers.
That was fascinating, said Kai on the end of a long held sigh.
Bonnard was regarding Varian with open respect.
Wow! One poke of that beak and you'd've been sent over the edge.
There was no menace in the giff's action.
Varian, said Kai, laying a hand on her arm, do be careful.
"Kai, this isn't my first contact." Then she saw the worry in his eyes. "I am always careful. Or I wouldn't be here now. Making friends with alien creatures is my business. But how I'm ever to find out how mature their young are if they're this protective . . ." She stopped, whistled her surprise. I know. The giff was protective because it's used to protecting the juveniles. So, they're not equipped to protect themselves at birth, or for some time thereafter. Still," and she sighed her disappointment, "I would have liked to get inside one of their caves . . ."
Look, Varian, said Bonnard in a whisper and indicated the direction with the barest movement of his forefinger.
Slowly, Varian turned to see a row of juvenile giffs watching from the summit, wings in a closed position, tilted up beyond their backs, wing claws acting as additional supports to their sitting. Varian began to laugh, shaking her head and muttering about the observer observed.
So we're fair peek, said Kai, leaning against the edge of the sled and folding his arms. Now what do we do in your programme? Be observed in our daily morning habits?
You can, if you wish. Be interesting to see how long their attention span is, but there's a great deal going on up there. She pointed skywards where the giffs were circling, but some groups spun off in various directions, with purposeful sweeps of their wings. We don't seem to have hit a day of rest, she said, flashing a smile at Kai. Bonnard, if I give you a leg up on the sled's canopy, I think you can see the summit. Can you tell me what the juveniles were squawking about? Or what overbalanced the one I wanted to rescue?
Sure.
Just don't dance about too much. Your boots'll scar the plascreen. And no, you can't take 'em off, Kai added as Bonnard began to speak.
They hoisted him up and, moving with great care, Bonnard positioned himself where he could see the summit.
There's dead fringes up here, Varian, and some slimy looking seaweed. Aw, would you look at that?
The juveniles, attracted by his new position, had abandoned that section of the summit and waddled over to stand directly in Bannard's line of sight. Disgusted, he, propped both hands against his hips and glared, actions which set them all to squawking and shifting away from the edge. Kai and Varian chuckled over the two sets of young.
Hey, recorder man, you missed a dilly of a sequence!