There were considerably more animals living in the sea and rivers. These were also not sentient, and their dead bodies washing ashore (they floated with the aid of bladders, also filled with carbon dioxide which they apparently extracted from sea-water), seemed to provide much of what proteins the ecosystem contained. The people, it seemed, would be the only profitable product of the planet. Kzinti tended to have a fairly high turnover of slaves, and there was always a demand for them on kzin worlds.
But the people were nowhere to be found.
Kzinti on a hunt are nothing if not thorough. Had any sentient animals been lurking in hiding, they would have been found. Had they burrowed underground, kzinti tracking devices would have detected disturbed soil or rock. There were a few caves, but they were empty. There was one curious detail about the caves in limestone areas: the stalactites and other calcium-carbonate formations seemed to have been removed. Contemplating this, the alien’s boast that they could travel in time came back to Captain. Was there…could there be…some connection? He dismissed the thought.
They searched the ground with high-resolution cameras from space, and visually from the highest parts of the strange buildings. They set off small bombs such as a human geologist might have recognized to detect any hidden subterranean chambers. Using technology developed to deal with the Chunquen, they explored the contours of the seabed. They flew to the tops of hills to survey the country around, and they explored canyons and valleys.
Finally, Alien Technology Officer reported to Captain, “They’ve gone.”
Captain thought hard. He did not want to end up in the arena, and the more spectacular, prolonged and expensive his failure here, the greater the chances of that became. At present, things had not gone too far: he had landed on a planet which turned out to be uninhabited. He had not wasted too many resources yet, or cost the Patriarchy any assets. No one could blame him for making a mere reconnaissance-in-force of the planet, particularly if the bridge-recordings of the alien conversations were quietly destroyed.
The locals must have disintegrated themselves. The disintegrators would be valuable weapons, but where were they? The idea they had really travelled in time returned, and again he dismissed it. There were too many paradoxes involved. Or he almost dismissed it. Better not to dwell on such things…for a race that really had time-travel would be a threat indeed…It was impossible. But the Ancients had had FTL, and that was impossible, too. And the inhabitants of this planet, whether one race or more, were without doubt very clever. He remembered the strange, leering smile on the face of what he did not know was Thomas the Tank Engine. It seemed to mock his perplexity.
He had done his duty in ensuring there was neither threat nor treasure on this world. His report would presumably be filed and forgotten in the Imperial bureaucracy (the kzin were terrible as bureaucrats, which was the main reason why they were always looking for slaves with record-keeping skills). He urinated formally on the ground to claim it for the Patriarch, and gave orders to return to the ship.
“There is a problem, Captain,” Strategist informed the bridge team as they gathered in the control room. “The ecology makes no sense. The only animal life is either insectoid or things that scuttle around in the detritus of the forest, nothing bigger than a paw. There are larger things in the sea, but on land, absolutely no carnivores.”
“And the aliens who came here. There was something strange about their minds, they were not in the right place,” Telepath said shrilly.
“Why is that a problem, Strategist?” Captain asked dangerously, ignoring Telepath.
“Because evolution works in predictable ways. If there is a huge supply of food, then creatures evolve to devour it. If there is a huge supply of vegetation, as on this world, then there are inevitably lots of herbivores. And when there are many herbivores, there are carnivores. But there are few if any herbivores, and no carnivores. It is absolutely impossible. Further, there is the single city with no real signs of housing and certainly none outside. We are missing something. I recommend a closer study until we find it.”
This settled things for the captain. Anything this intellectual idiot wanted to do was obviously a stupid idea.
“Overruled, Strategist. We have higher priorities than solving academic problems of no interest or importance to the Patriarchy. We leave immediately.” He hoped for some kind of argument which would have justified his taking Strategist’s throat out, but there was none.
“Delete those absurd so-called communications records, Technology Officer. They were obviously some sort of malfunction of the computing machines. I’ve never trusted them, and I was right. Prepare for take-off. We shall log our experiences on the planet and pass the reports back, but we have no reason for delay. That is all.”
Strategist watched him stalk from the bridge and shrugged internally. Not all captains of small warships were fools, for some reason he had been cursed with one of the more foolish. Quick reactions, yes; courage, enormous. Brains and capacity for thinking, zero. The usual story, high birth beat brains. One could only hope he never got promoted. He’d be a menace were he to command a proper fleet. Telepath caught his eye and nodded almost imperceptibly but said nothing.
Back on Glot, the children were allowed to move again. They’d been good except for the one that had started Thomas, and who had lost his toy in appropriate punishment. Everyone started extruding avatars for various reasons, including keeping the numbers of animals down.
“I do feel a bit sad about it all,” John Wayne told Coco. “A whole culture, with all its splendor and wonder, all gone. Look how much we’ve been enriched by exposure to the human beings, even when we’ve only seen them on their old movies. And another species, it could have had so many insights for us, so many puzzles, so many interesting things to think about.”
“We wouldn’t have had much from this lot,” Coco argued. “They’d want to eat our avatars, and enslave them. Face it, they just wouldn’t have been fun. And something that’s been puzzling me, how on earth did you say what you did?”
“What did I say?”
“That stuff about travelling in time. I think he took you seriously.”
“Yes,” John Wayne sounded very pleased with himself. “It was a lie. I’ve always wanted to tell a lie and of course we can’t do it in the ordinary way. I mean you need a barely intelligent alien to tell it to; one of those low bandwidth ones, if you can call them intelligent at all. So there he was, and there I was, and I thought, this is my big chance, and I might not get another anytime soon. So I did it. I lied like a human.” He gave the Dililly equivalent of a beam of pride. “It’s not even particularly difficult. But I hope we meet up with some more aliens soon, because I think I could get to quite enjoy telling lies. We’ll have to make one of those spaceship things so we can go looking for them.”