Foster, Alan Dean Quozl

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over the gravel that formed much of the valley floor.
Contemplative silence was supposed to prevail immediately after touch-down. Instead the team
members chatted excitedly, gesturing through the port at slick granite walls and the tiers of spiny-leaved
trees that climbed the eastern talus slope. As for the intermittent brush, the survey ship had sliced over
and through it easily.
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An exhausted Flies-by-Tail positioned the little craft according to instruc-tions. With the engines cut, a
rumble of a different kind filled their erect, alert ears, penetrating the walls of the ship. Shirazian thunder.
Harnesses were hastily unfastened. All-weather sandals slapped against the deck as the team prepared
to go outside. Weariness notwithstanding, Flies-by-Tail made ready to join them. Her body was limp but
her tone upbeat as she joined the others near the hatchway, pressing close to Looks-at-Charts.
Someone should be here to say Welcome home, she whispered. When a glance at his body posture
suggested she could safely invade his Sama, she reached out to caress his cheek with six fingers. The
excitement of the mo-ment was sufficient to override the standard suppressant dose she d taken prior to
departure. Looks felt himself responding and deliberately moved away. A shared touch was one thing;
now was not the time or place for the rest.
The final check run, they opened the hatch. Shiraz greeted them with cold wind, icy rain, and a blast of
stroboscopic lightning. Looks was comforted by the inclement weather. It would take pretty
sophisticated instrumentation to detect a descending vessel in this muck. If their preliminary observations
were accurate, the natives did not possess it.
Striding down the ramp, he braced himself against the wind as he turned
northward. There was no sign of their landing craft, which suggested it had made planetf all successfully
at the opposite end of the valley. Behind him the four members of the survey team were struggling to
~ssemble their equip-ment. Their task was twofold: to confirm readings and measurements made from
orbit and to stand ready to provide last-second corrections if necessary. Though they wore protective
oversuits, the howling wind and beating rain still made their work uncomfortable.
What a wonderful place, he mused aloud. No doubt our offspring, may they be honored and
respected, will bless us profusely for choosing it.
We had no choice. Flies-by-Tail stood close to him, watching the land-ing team struggle with their
instruments. We had to come down somewhere unpleasant. At least the Shirazians are like us in that
respect.
We don t know that, he corrected her. They may have other reasons for avoiding this place, reasons
we cannot imagine or suspect. He blinked away rain. Although I do not think they would come here for
the benign climate.
It helped to concentrate on the trees that began growing halfway up the valley slopes and continued to
the cloud-concealed crests of the mountains. Trees, even alien trees, were reassuring sights, harbingers of
warmth and productivity and a generous nature. Such strange trees they were, unlike anything on
Quozlene or the other settled worlds, with their narrow sharp-tipped leaves and deeply ribbed bark. He
wondered if the vegetation in the temperate regions to the south was much different.
Despite his protective jumpsuit and his well-groomed fur he found he was cold. The wind ruffled his fur
and let the rain penetrate to the skin. Light-ning arched across the sky, jumping from one mountaintop to
the other, a billion-volt bridge. Accompanied by Flies-by-Tail he walked a little ways away from the ship.
Since none of the landing team was asking his advice there was nothing for him to do except stay out of
the way unless needed.
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Not such a terrible place, he murmured hopefully. If it were other than isolated, cold, and difficult to
reach, it would be overrun with Shirazians. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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