She moved down the ramp a short distance. “It is beautiful,” she said.
She walked to the bottom of the ramp and looked about her. The tossing, floating flowers seemed to beckon, and suddenly she broke into a run. Gown flapping, coiffure completely forgotten, she dashed buoyantly through the flowers, and as she ran she reached out and snatched a handful. Then, glancing down at them, she came to an abrupt halt. They had wilted in her hand and turned brown. She puzzled over this, and finally she plucked another flower and watched its glistening petals fade as though she were holding a flame to them. She dropped it and thoughtfully walked toward the buildings.
They were connected by muddy paths, and paths led away from them in several directions, one of them curving toward the beach. The ocean had not been visible from the landing field; from the hilltop it could be seen spanning the horizon, a shimmering, sparkling, incredibly lovely blue-green sea under a blue-green sky.
She looked into the buildings. One contained a communications center and offices. Three were divided into sleeping quarters. One had a dining room, library, and game room. One was a storage building. All were as immaculately clean and tidy as a properly programmed housekeeper could make them, and all of them were deserted. As she examined them, she had the panicky sensation of trying to convince herself that this world of Langri was in fact inhabited.
Finally she returned to the building with the offices, and a short time later the ship’s captain dropped the door open and came in swinging a mail pouch. He tossed it onto a desk and took another from its hook by the door.
“Your luggage is on the way,” he told Talitha. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Prove to me that someone lives on this stupid world.”
He stepped to the window and pointed. On the watery horizon she could just make out specks of color. “Native hunting boats,” the captain said. “Can you see the sails? The creatures they catch are the most hideous monsters imaginable, and one of them completely fills a boat.” He grinned at her. “Great place, Langri. You’ll have a wonderful time here.”
“Doing what?” she demanded scornfully.
“Swimming, playing games with the natives—go have a look at that beach.”
They turned as three perspiring crewmen entered with Talitha’s luggage. The captain picked up his mail pouch and started for the door, and the crewmen awkwardly moved aside for him.
“I’m tempted to leave with you,” Talitha said.
“Nonsense. Have a nice vacation, like everyone else on Langri. Then if you want to leave, I’ll be back in two or three months.”
He nodded, smiled, and went out swinging the pouch.
The crewmen were still holding her luggage. “Please excuse me,” she said. “Just set everything down here. I don’t know where my quarters will be. Thank you. It’s a warm day for carrying loads.”
One of them said bitterly, “I don’t know what the blasted hurry is. We’re never on schedule anyway, and I could do with a swim.”
They nodded at her and went out. She hesitated for a moment, and then she followed them and stood watching the ship. The supplies had been stacked haphazardly just beyond the ship’s landing perimeter. The captain had been willing to deliver luggage for a lady in distress, but obviously he would not transport supplies a centimeter farther than was absolutely necessary for an embassy staff that did nothing but swim and play games with the natives. She watched the ship until it lifted, and then, feeling very lonely, she returned to the embassy.
But she did not go inside. After a moment’s hesitation she chose the path to the beach, walked for a short distance along the water’s edge, and retraced her steps. Another path led from the buildings across a flower-spangled meadow to the magnificently colored forest. She hesitated once more, and then she shrugged and followed it. Crossing the meadow, she stooped over to look closely at the strangely fragile flowers. Her breath was even more corrosive than her touch—it blackened them instantly. She straightened up in consternation and walked on.
Not until she found the trees looming directly in front of her did she pause. The path obviously was not much used. The forest seemed very dark.
Off to her right, a flash of color caught her attention. She hurried to it and leaned over it in utter fascination. It was the most magnificent flower she had ever seen. Instinctively she stretched out her hand—and the flower ran off, scurrying over blossoms, leaping from leaf to leaf, and finally dropping to the ground and disappearing into the long vegetation.
As she stared after it, Talitha was vaguely aware of a slight movement above her head. Before she could move, before she had time even to feel alarmed, a cluster of wreathing vines fell upon her. In an instant they swarmed over her and began to tighten. She screamed and clawed at them, but almost before she could struggle they whipped away, twisting and threshing, and slowly began to hoist back into the brilliant canopy of leaves. She staggered backward. Her bare arms were laced with networks of tiny blood spots where the vines had seized her. Otherwise, she seemed unharmed. Panting, she stared up at the tree, which held numerous clusters of vines poised for dropping on the unwary.
Then she noticed that the forest floor under the tree was thickly strewn with the skeletal structures of small animals. She screamed again, louder. Pounding footsteps approached her, and a man burst from the forest. He was heavily bearded, his skin beautifully bronzed by the sun, and he wore only a loincloth. She immediately took him for a native. While she stared at him, he was looking about for the cause of her scream. Then he noticed her costume and stared at her with a rare frankness.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“The vines,” she said, pointing. “They grabbed me.”
“And then they ungrabbed you. Look.”
The vines were still wreathing just overhead, and he strode forward and deliberately extended a hand toward them. They retreated, threshing violently.
“Humans are poisonous to it, and to all the other insidious life forms on the planet,” he said. “For which we all offer thanks daily. Actually, it knows better than to attack humans, but your gown and light complexion probably fooled it. Come back in a couple of weeks, when you’ve got yourself a good coat of tan, and it won’t pay any attention to you.” He paused, looking at her with puzzled admiration. “Going to a party, or something?”
Talitha burst into laughter. “It must seem like an odd costume for exploring!”
He spoke very seriously. “Don’t do that. Not in any costume. It’s a lovely world, but it can be deadly. Excuse me. Things are rather informal on Langri. I’m Aric Hort. I’m an anthropologist. I’m supposed to be studying the natives, but I don’t make much progress because they’d rather I didn’t.”
“I’m Talitha Warr,” she said. “My uncle is ambassador to this place, or so he said, and I decided to pay him a surprise visit. Thus far I’m the one surprised.”
“Better wait for your uncle at the embassy. I’ll walk back with you.”
She said stiffly, “I’m sure I can find the way myself.”
“I’m sure you can, and I can’t think of any danger you might encounter along the way, but I’ll go with you anyway.”
He took her arm firmly and turned her toward the embassy, and they walked side by side through the flower-clustered meadow.