“The nest grasses are not the rift valley type, more like the tougher fibres of the swamp growths. I wonder . . . Okay, Kai,” and her broadcast voice was augmented by the clearer tones that indicated she had left the cave, “pull me up.”
She had grasses sprouting from her leg pouches as she came over the lip of the ledge, and the egg made an unusual bulge in the front of her ship suit.
“Any sign of alarm?” she asked.
Kai, securing the winch, shook his head as Bonnard leaped to assist her out of the harness.
“Hey, their eggs are small. Can I shake it?”
“Go ahead. What's in it is long dead.”
“Why?”
Varian shrugged. “We'll let Trizein have a gawk and see if he can find out. I don't necessarily wish to fracture it. Let me have that plascovering. Kai,” and she neatly stored the egg, surrounded by the dead grasses and then brushed her gloved hands together to signify a task well completed. “That's thirsty work,” she said and led the way back to the sled where she broke out more rations.
“You know,” she said, half-way through the quick meal, “I think that each of those groups was out on various set tasks . . .”
“So we're staying around to see what they bring home?” asked Kai.
“If you don't mind?”
“No.” He inclined his head towards the juveniles, some of whom had indeed lost interest and were bumbling about the summit at the far side. “I'm enjoying the reversal of roles.”
“I wish I could get into a cave currently in use . . .”
“All in one day?”
“Yes, you're right, Kai. That's asking too much. At least, we've experienced no aggressive action from them. The adult construed my action as helpful rather than dangerous. It did accept the grass . . .”
They all glanced upward as an unusual note penetrated the sled's roof, a high pitched, sharp sustained note. The juveniles on the summit came rigidly to attention. Varian gestured to Bonnard to take the recorder but the boy was already reaching for it, doing a scan of the skies before he steadied the device on the alert young.
A mass of fliers fell from the caves, gained wing room and flew with an astonishing show of speed off into the misty south west.
“That's the direction of the sea gap. The net fishers?”
“The juveniles are clearing away,” said Bonnard. “Looks like fish for lunch to me.”
Out of the mist now appeared wing-weary giffs, barely skimming the water, rising with obvious effort to ledges where they settled, wings unclosed and drooping. Varian was certain she'd seen grass trailing from the rear claws of one. They waited, and so did the juveniles, occasionally poking at each other. Bonnard, fretting with the interval, moved towards the sled exit but Varian stopped him, just as they saw an adult giff land on their terrace.
“Don't move a muscle, Bonnard.”
The adult watched, its eyes never moving from the sled.
“Now move slowly back from the exit,” Varian told him and when he had completed the manoeuvre, she let out a deep sigh of relief. “What did I tell you the other day? You don't bother animals with their food. You sure as rakers don't bother creatures waiting for lunch, if you want to stay in good with them.”
“I'm sorry, Varian.”
“That's all right, Bonnard. You have to learn these things. Fortunately no harm's done – either to you or to our mission.” She smiled at Bannard's downcast face. “Cheer up. we've also learned something else. They haven't let up surveillance of us for one minute. And they've figured out where we enter and leave this sled. Pretty clever creatures, I'd say.”
Never taking his eyes off their guard, the boy sank to the floor of the sled.
They waited another three-quarters of an hour before Kai, remembering to keep his gesture slow, alerted them to the returning giffs. Cries raised from every quarter and so many giffs were airborne that Bonnard complained that his frames would show more furred bodies and wings than anything informative.
Bonnard and Varian saw a repetition of the previous performance as the shimmering piles of fish were spewed from the nets. The juveniles waddled in and one adult, spotting a youngster stocking up his throat pouch, tapped it smartly on the head and made it regurgitate. Kai observed another adult separating fringes from the mass, dextrously flipping them over the edge of the cliff with smart sweeps of his beak. When it had apparently completed that task on its side of the catch, it carefully scrubbed its beak against stone.
“I got that on tape, Varian,” Bonnard assured her as Kai pointed out another curiosity, an adult giff whose beak was being stuffed by others. The giff then waddled off the cliff edge, gained wing room and disappeared into one of the larger caves. Another took his place, to be filled up before flying off, this time to another large aperture. The juveniles were allowed to eat one fish at a time. There was a repeat of juvenile terror over a fringe, two fell over and were intertwined until rescued by a watching adult. Bonnard fretted at having to remain inside the sled instead of on it where he could have got much better tapes of the incident.
Gradually the supply dwindled, the juveniles losing interest and disappearing from the summit. Soon after, Varian noticed that no giffs were to be seen. They waited patiently until Kai became so restless with inactivity that Varian could not ignore the fact that they were not furthering their study of the giff by remaining either in the sled or on the terrace.
It was well past midday now. She'd enough on tapes for hours of study. Her announcement that they'd better get back to the compound met with instant action on the part of the two males. Kai checked the sled's lock for flight, motioned Bonnard to strap himself in and did so himself. Both were ready while she, laughing, was barely seated.
As she took off, she circled once more over the summit, noting that small fringes were left to bake and deteriorate on the summit. She'd answered a few of her questions, but more had been raised by the day's happenings. She was reasonably pleased with the excursion, if only because it had been something she'd wanted to do.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kai noticed the absence of the sleds as they circled an encampment strangely motionless. Only Dandy was visible, half asleep in his pen, one hind leg cocked at the ankle. For some reason, that reassured Kai. Dandy had shown a marked tendency to react to any tension or excitement in the compound by cowering against the fencing of his pen.
“Everyone is indeed resting,” said Varian who was piloting the sled.
“My teams must have made an early return to their camps.”
“Yes, but where are my heavy-worlders? Not all the sleds should be gone.”
“Bakkun said something about going to his place,” said Bonnard.
“His place?” Kai and Varian asked in chorus.
“Yes. North,” said Bonnard, pointing. “Bakkun's special place is in the north.”
“What sort of special place?” asked Varian, signalling Kai with a quick glance to let her do the questioning. “Have you been there?”
“Yes, last week when I was out with Bakkun. It's not what I'd call special, just a clear circular place among the trees, closed off at one end by a rock fall. There's a bunch of the big grass-eaters, like Mabel, and some other smaller types. They've all got hunks out of their sides, Varian. Bakkun told me Paskutti was interested in them. Didn't he mention it to you?”
“Probably hasn't had time,” said Varian in such an off-handed manner that Kai knew Paskutti hadn't mentioned it to her.
“Time? That was a week ago.”
“We've all been busy,” said Varian, frowning as she slipped the sled into hold and landed it lightly on the ground.
Lunzie was at the veil lock now, waiting to open it for them.
“Successful trip?” she asked.
“Yes, indeed. Everyone enjoying a quiet restful day here, too?” asked Varian.
Lunzie gave her a long searching look.
“As far as I know,” said Lunzie slowly, her eyes never leaving Varian's as she closed the veil lock. “Terilli's working on some drawings in Gaber's dome, and Cleiti's reading in the main dome.”