“We could still be computing from the wrong data,” suggested Varian wistfully.
“We could be.” Lunzie was not convinced.
“I could ask Bonnard if he remembers the co-ordinates of Bakkun's so-called special place?”
“You could, though I don't like involving the youngsters in any part of this.”
“Nor do I. But they are part of the expedition and this could affect them as well as us adults. However. I could just be in the general vicinity of Bakkun's run that day, and . . .”
“Yes, that would not be a blatant abuse of the child's trust.”
“I'll see what Kai says.”
Kai had the same general objection to involving the youngster at all. On the other hand, it was important to find out exactly what had occurred, and if the heavy-worlders were reverting, he and Varian would have to know and take steps. He cautioned Varian to be discreet, both with Bonnard and the search.
Her opportunity came about quite naturally two mornings later. Kai and Bonnard took off north to do a depth assessment of a pitchblende strike discovered by Berru and Triv. Paskutti and Tardma followed by lift-belt to track and tag some shallow water monsters observed, at a safe distance, by the two geologists. Varian wanted to penetrate and telltag further to the north west so she asked Bonnard to be her team flyer.
She did a good deal of work with Bonnard and managed casually to veer to the proper heading. She had checked Bakkun's flight tapes.
“Say, isn't this near where Bakkun had those herbivores?”
Turning from the telltagger, Bonnard glanced around.
“A lot of Ireta looks the same, purple-green trees and no sun. No, wait. That line of fold mountains, with the three higher overthrusts . . .”
“You have learned a thing or two,” said Varian, teasingly.
Bonnard faltered, embarrassed. “Well, Bakkun's been giving me instruction, you know. We were headed straight for that central peak, I think. And we landed just above the first fold of those hills.” Then he added, “We found some gold there, you know.”
“Gold's the least of the riches this planet holds.”
“Then we're not likely to be left, are we?”
Varian inadvertently swerved, sending Bonnard against his seat straps. She corrected her course, cursing Gaber's big mouth and her own lack of self-control.
“Gaber's wishful thinking, huh?” she asked, hoping her chuckle sounded amused. “Those old fogeys get like that, wanting to extend their last expeditionary assignment as long as they can.”
“Oh.” Bonnard had not considered that possibility. “Terilla told me he sounded awful certain.”
“Wishful thinking often does sound like fact. Say, you don't want to stay on Ireta, too, do you? Thought you didn't like this stinking planet, Bonnard?”
“It's not so bad, once you get used to the smell.”
“Just don't get too accustomed, pal. We've got to go back to the EV. Now, keep your eyes open, I want to check . . .”
They were flying over the first of the hills but Varian didn't need Bonnard to tell her when they cruised over Bakkun's special place. It was clearly identifiable: some of the heavier bones and five skulls still remained. Stunned and unwillingly committed now, Varian circled the sled to land and also saw the heavy, blackened stones, witness to a campfire which the intervening days' rain had not quite washed away.
She said nothing. She was grateful that Bonnard couldn't and wouldn't comment.
She put the sled down between the fire site and the first of the skulls. It was pierced between the eyes with a round hole: too large to have been a stun bolt at close range, but whatever had driven it into the beast's head had had enough force behind it to send fracture lines along the skull bone. Two more skulls showed these holes, the fourth had been crushed by heavy blows on the thinner base of the neck. The fifth skull was undamaged and it was not apparent how that creature had met its death.
The ground in the small rock-girded field was torn up and muddied with tracks, giving silent evidence to struggles.
“Varian,” Bannard's apologetic voice called her from chaotic speculations. He was holding up a thin scrap of fabric, stiff and darker than ship suits should be, a piece of sleeve fabric for the seam ran to a bit of the tighter cuff: a big cuff, a left arm cuff. She winced with revulsion but shoved the offending evidence into her thigh pocket.
Resolutely she strode to the makeshift fire-pit, staring at the blackened stones, at the groove chipped out of opposing stones where a Spit must have been placed. She shuddered against rising nausea.
“We've seen enough, Bonnard,” she said, gesturing him to follow her back to the sled. She had all she could do not to run from the place.
When they had belted into their seats, she turned to Bonnard, wondering if her face was as white as his.
“You will say nothing of this to anyone, Bonnard. Nothing.”
Her fingers trembled as she made a note of the co-ordinates. When she lifted the sled, she shoved in a burst of propulsion, overwhelmingly eager to put as much space between her and that charnel spot as she could!
Neither she nor Kai could ignore such an abrogation of basic Federation tenets. For a fleeting moment, she wished she'd made this search alone, then she could have forgotten about it, or tried to. With Bonnard as witness, the matter could not be put aside as a nightmare. The heavy-worlders would have to be officially reprimanded, though she wasn't sure how efficacious words would be against their physical strength. They were contemptuous enough of their leadership already to have killed and eaten animal flesh.
Varian shook her head sharply, trying to clear her mind of the revulsion that inevitably accompanied that hideous thought.
“Life form, untagged,” Bonnard said in a subdued tone.
Willing for any diversion from her morbid and sickening thoughts, Varian turned the sled, tracking the creature until it crossed a clearing.
"Got it," said Bonnard. "It's a fang-face, Varian. And Varian, it's wounded. Rakers ! "
The predator whirled in the clearing, reaching up to beat futilely at the air with its short fore-feet. A thick branch had apparently lodged in its ribs, Varian could see fresh blood from its exertions flowing out of the gaping wound. Then she could no longer ignore the fact that the branch was a crude spear, obviously flung with great force into the beast's side.
"Aren't we going to try and help it, Varian?" asked Bonnard as she sent the sled careering away." We couldn't manage it alone, Bonnard."
“But it will die.”
“Yes, and there's nothing we can do now. Not even get close enough to spray a seal on the wound and hope that it could dislodge that . . .” She didn't know why she stopped; she wasn't protecting the heavy-worlders, and Bonnard had seen the horror.
Hadn't the carnivores provided the heavy-worlders with enough violence? How many other wounded creatures would she and Bonnard encounter in this part of the world?
“By any chance, had you the taper on, Bonnard?”
“Yes, I did, Varian.”
“Thank you. I'm turning back. I must speak to Kai as soon as possible.” When she saw Bonnard looking at the communit, she shook her head. “This is an executive matter, Bonnard. Again, I must ask you to say nothing to anyone and . . .” She wanted to add “stay away from the heavy-worlders” but from the tight, betrayed expression on the boy's face, she knew such advice would be superfluous.
They continued back to the compound in silence for a while.
“Varian?”
“Yes, Bonnard?” She hoped she had an answer for him.
“Why? Why did they do such a terrible thing?”
“I wish I knew, Bonnard. No incidence of violence stems from a simple cause, or a single motive. I've always been told that violence is generally the result of a series of frustrations and pressures that have no other possible outlet.”