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Sudden movement caught his attention. There, in the direction of the lake. Brion crouched slowly, until only his eyes were above the grass. He could see a herd of creatures moving in his direction, grazing as they came. He remained as motionless as a rock, only his hands moving, drifting slowly downwards as he retrieved his pack and slung it by the strap over his shoulder.

Harsh cries shrilled suddenly in the air above him. Brion’s eyes snapped up to see the flock of birds circling close, then landing. No, they weren’t birds at all, but flying reptiles of some sort. Instead of feathers they had leathery membranes stretched between the thin bones of their outspread wings. Their skins glistened in the sunlight, red and orange; the creatures heads were split by gaping jaws that appeared to be filled with needle teeth. Still calling out harshly they dropped lower until they sank out of sight in the sea of grass.

The grazing creatures were closer and Brion could now see them clearly. They were lizardoids as well. Their hairless skins were dun-collared; perfect camouflage in the dried grass. They moved warily on their long running legs, raising their heads often and opening their nostril flaps to smell the air. There must be predators about — and Brion had a feeling that they would also be reptilian.

The herd was aware of something now. The creatures had stopped grazing and were standing, frozen, with their nostrils flared wide. Perhaps another animal was approaching. Though they had caught its smell, it was still concealed from sight in the deep grass. A drama of life and death was about to be played out close by him.

Brion realized with sudden shock that he might be more than a simple spectator, when he noticed that all of the creatures appeared to be staring in his direction. Had they seen him? He sank down even lower to avoid their gaze, empathetically feeling the thin undercurrent of their emotions. Fear. Fear that replaced all other sensations. His empathetic sense was normally sensitive only to human beings, but strong emotions from other animals occasionally seeped through. He was well aware of the creatures fear now — and something else, something stronger.

Brion sprang to his feet, tearing his knife from its sheath, spinning about just in time to see the dark form that hurtled towards him. High-pitched shrieking tore at his ears. Something hard crashed into his shoulder as he dived aside, spinning him about, numbing his arm so that he almost dropped the knife. He fumbled it into his left hand and saw the creature rising above him again, jaws agape, rows of teeth glistening.

It was falling upon him with its full weight as he plunged the knife into its throat. With a strangled screech it collapsed, crushing him to the ground. The creature shuddered convulsively once and then was still. Warm liquid bathed Brion’s arm, the beast’s blood or his own, he could not tell. Bracing his feet against the animal’s body he pushed himself free, looking around desperately at the same time to see if there were more of the things about.

There had been just the one. He stood, gasping with the effort; the only motion visible now was the herd of grazing creatures which was rapidly bounding out of sight. Looking down Brion saw that his arms were drenched with green blood — that was surely not his own!

Beside him on the ground the unmoving beast lay stretched out, motionless and dead. It’s yard-long and tooth-lined jaws were open and gaping, its eyes staring sightlessly at him. The dead predator had short, claw-tipped forelegs, while its rear legs were immense, to give it speed when it attacked. The creature’s wrinkled hide was a mottled and ugly brown tinged with purple. The colour of the shadows Brion realized. A killing machine. It was no wonder the other animals had been so wary.

Brion was suddenly very tired. He dropped down heavily onto the beast’s flank, then wiped the gore from his fingers onto its skin. He drank deeply from his pressed wood water bottle, then could only sit and breathe heavily while he waited for his strength to return. Not a very auspicious beginning to his investigation; he had almost been killed by the first creature he had met. Almost — but not quite. The knife was sharp and well balanced, his reflexes as fast as ever. He would not be surprised as easily as this again.

But at least he was down on the planet and relatively safe for the moment. It was time for his next step. Up to now he had been worried only about survival. First there had been the necessity of evading the missiles in the air and the war machines on the ground. Well he had done all that. And had survived the predator’s attack as well. The first part of the mission had been accomplished. The next thing he had to do was report his safe arrival before he moved on.

This area was as good as any on the plain; welt away from the trees and clearly visible from space. The grass had been trampled by the animals, but there still wasn’t a flattened area big enough to lay out the message. However there was the stony mound nearby and this was not covered by the high grass. He clambered up onto it and opened his bag, pulling out the bundle of collared cloth panels. Although he knew that there was nothing for him to see he could not stop himself from looking up at the empty blue sky. The lifeship was there in orbit, invisible to him although he knew Lea would be able to see him clearly under electronic magnification. He had to smile to himself as he waved his arms widely; it was a victory gesture and he felt the better for doing it. Then he bent to the task of arranging the panels to make the first signal.

First the ‘X’ to draw the computer’s attention in case he was not under observation. Then the rest of the message. The code was a simple one that he had worked out and memorized. T to indicate that he had landed safely — if she had watched the encounter with the attacking reptile she might very well be having some doubts about that. He stood aside for a short period so the signal could be recorded, then added a panel to turn the T into a ‘T’ to show that he was proceeding with the operation as planned, and would signal again as soon as possible. He had to weigh down the cloth with stones to hold it flat, since the dawn breeze was growing stronger as the sun rose higher in the sky and heated up the ground.

From the top of the mound the surrounding countryside was clearly visible. The grazing saurians had outrun their panic and were now grazing along the shore of the lake. The route he had to take to the nearest battlefield was an easy one, simply proceed west along the shore of the lake until he reached the spot. A simple walk that would give him a chance to examine the countryside and the animals as he went. It was time to go. He refolded the panels and stowed them away. Then, with the sun warm on his back, he started west.

At midday he stopped to rest and eat. The freeze-dried rations would supply all the energy he needed for a number of days — but were as tasteless as dried cardboard. He washed them down with water, then shook the bottle to see how much remained. Enough for the rest of the day, but it would need refilling before nightfall. He would take care of that later, well before dark. After that he would move away from the lake and find some shelter among the rocks

or trees for the night. The single predator he had met had given him a healthy respect for the wildlife on this planet. He put the wrapping from the food and the water bottle back into the bag and climbed to his feet, stretching.

At first the sound was so tiny and distant he took it for the whine of an insect — but it grew quickly, louder and louder. He dived sideways into the cover of the deep grass as he recognized it. A jet engine. It was missing, then catching again as though it were in trouble. It came out of the sun, a white contrail with the black dot of an aircraft leading it. Twisting and turning as though the pilot was avoiding something. The course turned again, bending in his direction, passing almost directly overhead and hurtling on with a roar.