“Could I?” Varian brightened at the prospect. “Could I take the big sled, sleep out in it? We've got their flight habits well documented now, we've caught the fishing act often enough to establish that drill, but I don't know much about their personal life, their matutinal habits. And there's only the one place for those grasses they eat. They do use swamp grass for net-weaving but I don't know exactly how they accomplish the feat.” She gave him a sideways frown. “You need a break as much as I do. Let's both go, next rest day. Paskutti and Lunzie can sub for us.”
“What if we arrive on the giff rest day?” asked Kai with a very bland expression.
“There's always that possibility, isn't there?” she replied, not taking his lure.
Kai was astonished at how eagerly he looked forward to the break in routine. That showed how right Varian had been in suggesting it. Lunzie approved wholeheartedly, telling Kai she'd been about to recommend a day off for them both. She wasn't too sure that observing the giffs at close range constituted a proper holiday but the physician was equally keen to know more about the giffs.
“What is there about winged creatures that fascinates us all?” Lunzie asked as they sat about after the evening meal over beakers of distilled fruit juice.
“Their independence?” asked Kai.
' “If we had been meant to fly, we'd've been given wings,” ' quipped Varian in a thin nasal voice, then continued in a normal tone, “I suspect it is the freedom, or perhaps the view, the perspective, the feeling of infinite space about you. You ship-bred types can't appreciate open spaces the way the planet-bred can, but I do need vistas on which to feast my eyes, and soul.”
“Confinement, voluntary or involuntary, can have adverse effects on temperament and psychology, resulting in serious maladjustrnents,” Lunzie said. “One reason why we include the youngsters on planetfall assignments as often as possible.”
Kai remained silent, acutely conscious of his own sometimes pressing agoraphobia.
“We have surrogate wings,” Lunzie continued, “in the agency of sleds and lift-belts . . .”
“Which do not quite produce the same freedoms,” said Kai slowly, wondering what it would feel like to be independent of all artificial aids: to dip, dive, soar and glide without the unconscious restrictive considerations of fuel, stress, metal fatigue.
“Why, Kai,” said Varian, regarding him with delighted astonishment, “you're the last one I'd expect to understand.”
“Perhaps,” he said with a wry smile, “you planet-bred types underestimate the ship-bred.”
Dimenon, who'd been in an uproariously good mood that evening, since he and Margit had flown in to report finding not only a stream running with gold nuggets but the parent lode, had brought out his handpiano. He began to render a boisterous ballad with interminable verses and a silly syllabic chorus with such an infectious tune that everyone joined in. To Kai's surprise, so did the heavy-worlders, thumping the plasfloor with their heavy boots and clapping with unusual enthusiasm.
Margit wanted to dance and dragged Kai onto the floor, yelling at Dimenon to leave off the endless verses and play some decent music. Kai was never certain when the heavy-worlders disappeared but the convivial gathering lasted well past the rise of the third moon.
He awoke suddenly the next morning. with an urgency that suggested danger. When he scrambled out of the sleeping sack to the window of his dome, the scene was quiet. Dandy was sprawled asleep in his pen. There was no movement. The day had started, the brighter patch of cloud which was the sun was well above the soft slope of the eastern hills. Whatever had alarmed his subconscious was not apparent.
He was roused and so keyed up by the abrupt triggering that he decided to remain up. He dragged on a clean ship suit, inserted a fresh lining in his boots and fastened them. He had a small larder in his dome and broke open a wake-up beaker, reminding himself to check with Lunzie today on the state of the stores. He could not shake his sensation that something was amiss so he did a tour of the encampment.
There wasn't a smell of smoke in the main dome. Gaber was fast asleep in his, the windows were opaqued in the other sleeping– quarters so he did not intrude. Remembering Trizein's tendency to work through a night, he made his way quickly to the shuttle craft, waving open the iris lock. The conditioned air inside gave him pause. Suddenly he realized that he hadn't put his nose filters in: and he hadn't smelled Ireta!
“Muhlah! I'm getting used to it.” His soft exclamation echoed in the bare main cabin of the shuttle. Kai walked quietly back to Trizein's lab, opened the iris and peered in. Some experiments were in progress, judging by the activity of dials and gauges in the built-in equipment but Trizein's form on the ledge-bed was motionless.
As Kai turned from the lab, he noticed that the supply hold iris was open. He must caution Trizein about that. Lunzie kept her decanted fruit brew in there. Kai had noticed conspicuous consumption the night before and his aggressiveness when Margit suggested he'd had enough. Kai didn't quite put it past the man to appropriate a flask for evening use in the secondary camp. Not a habit he'd approve or condone in any of his team members.
Although his inspection satisfied him that nothing was demonstrably wrong, his uneasiness remained until, after returning to his dome, he became immersed in the restricted file in the ship's data bank. By the time the rest of the expedition was stirring, he had rid himself of the backlog of detail. The inadvertently early rising had been rewarding.
Dimenon, looking untouched by the previous evening's carousal, arrived in the main dome with Margit, both suited up and ready to return to their base. They ate quickly, wanting to make an early start back, but as they were leaving, Dimenon asked Kai when he expected to contact the Theks again. He did not seem disturbed when Kai gave a time three days later.
"Well, let us know how EV appreciates our labours on this stinking planet. Although – " Dimenon frowned and felt his nostrils, "Rake it! I forgot to put "em in again!"
“Smell anything?” asked Kai, amused.
Dimenon's eyes began to widen and his mouth dropped in exaggerated reaction.
“I've got used to the stench!” He roared the statement, full of aggrieved incredulity. “Kai, please, when you've got through to EV, have them pick us up before schedule? Please, I've got used to the stench of hydro-telluride.” He clutched at his throat now, contorting his face as though in terminal agony, “I can't stand it. I can't stand it.”
Lunzie, who was literal minded, came rushing up, frowning with anxiety while Kai tried to gesture reassurance. Others were grinning at Dimenon's histrionics but the heavy-worlders, after uninterested glances at the geologist, turned back to their own quiet-toned discussions. Lunzie still hadn't realized that Dimenon was acting. He grabbed at her shoulders now.
“Tell me, Lunzie, tell me I'm not a goner. My sense of smell'll come back, won't it. Once I'm in decent air? Oh, don't tell me I'll never be able to smell nothing in the air again . . .”
“If the acclimitization should be permanent, you could always get an Iretan air-conditioning for your shipboard quarters,” Lunzie replied, apparently in earnest.
Dimenon looked horrified and, for a moment, didn't catch the brand of the physician's humour.
“C'mon, partner, you've been bested,” said Margit, taking him by the arm. “Better to smell the sweet air of another find . . .”
“Could you get so used to Iretan stink you'd never smell normal again?” Bonnard asked Lunzie, a little worried as he watched the two geologists leave.
“No,” said Lunzie with a dry chuckle. “The smell is powerful but I doubt There's any permanent desensitization. The temporary effect is somewhat of a blessing. Do you have it?”
Bonnard nodded uncertainly. “But I didn't know I couldn't smell it anymore until Dimenon mentioned it.” This worried him.