Valnadireb had stumbled across, but perhaps indications of embryonic civilization. Crude shelters, perhaps, or maybe even a village. Primitives who had learned to utilize scraps of hide or plant material to make clothing, however crude, could also employ them to fashion roofs and other items indicative of higher thought.
As he lay on his back staring at the smooth, seamless ceiling, he found himself listening for the sounds of rocks thudding against the module’s exterior wall. None were forthcoming. The spikers were lying low tonight, he mused. It was an encouraging sign. Maybe tomorrow he and his companions would actually be able to spend an entire day doing nothing but science. It would be a change from their first few days on Quofum.
Even better, the world beneath their feet had not winked out of existence. The planetary reality might be outré, bemusing, even impressive, but it was also thankfully a good deal more solid and stable than that first robotic probe and subsequent singular astronomical conclusions might have led one to believe.
With that comforting thought in mind he drifted off into a deep and restful sleep.
4
It did not take long to load the boat. Self-contained travel modules fit neatly into larger containers that were impervious to the local flora and fauna. Thermosensitive packaging would alternately cool or warm food supplies to maintain them at their optimal temperature and prevent spoilage. Armaments were checked and charged. The presence of these weapons was necessary not only for defense in case of another attack by the belligerent spikers but in the event they encountered dangerous carnivorous fauna. Their brief time on Quofum had already revealed an enormous variety of animal life. If experience and history held true to biological form, it was unlikely that all of it would be benign.
It began to rain when they pushed off, the silent motor backing the simple but sleek craft out into navigable water. The drizzle freshened and cooled the air. Unlike the ocean, it did not smell or taste of alcohol.
That meant, Tellenberg mused, that the alcoholic content of the local seas arose from a source other than the clouds. Did it dissolve out of ancient deposits? Could one establish an alcohol mine on Quofum? How would one identify and label such a claim? A host of possibilities crossed his mind in rapid succession, many of them more frivolous than scientific.
Off in the distance thunder boomed, hinting at heavier precipitation to come. A touch on a console unfurled the boat’s stiffened plastic roof. Seated at the controls, N’kosi swung the bow around and headed the craft upstream, accelerating modestly as he did so. Erupting from the water in advance of the boat’s prow, a flurry of winged white worms scattered, as if the silvery surface had suddenly been embossed with ivory.
“Beautiful morning.” Haviti leaned out slightly to look at the sky, which had begun to weep more heavily.
Eyeing his fellow scientist’s supple form as she turned and twisted slightly to scan the clouds, Tellenberg decided that he could not have agreed more. On the shore off to their left, something like a garbage heap fashioned of fragments of dark blue glass hastened to flatten itself against the earth, minimizing its silhouette to potential predators. Nearby, what at first glance appeared to be half a dozen tall narrow huts abruptly rose up on lanky, polelike legs and ambled off into the brush.
What a world, an energized Tellenberg found himself thinking. Not only did it flaunt life in tremendous variety, but life-forms that appeared to follow multiple patterns of development. Employing elementary cladistics he tried to construct a relationship between the long-legged hut-things and the blue glass blob, between the spikers and the stick-jellies, and failed. Even the makeup of the dense forest was suspect. Some growths were clearly composed of familiar complex carbohydrates, but the appearance of others suggested a
As he lay on his back staring at the smooth, seamless ceiling, he found himself listening for the sounds of rocks thudding against the module’s exterior wall. None were forthcoming. The spikers were lying low tonight, he mused. It was an encouraging sign. Maybe tomorrow he and his companions would actually be able to spend an entire day doing nothing but science. It would be a change from their first few days on Quofum.
Even better, the world beneath their feet had not winked out of existence. The planetary reality might be outré, bemusing, even impressive, but it was also thankfully a good deal more solid and stable than that first robotic probe and subsequent singular astronomical conclusions might have led one to believe.
With that comforting thought in mind he drifted off into a deep and restful sleep.
4
It did not take long to load the boat. Self-contained travel modules fit neatly into larger containers that were impervious to the local flora and fauna. Thermosensitive packaging would alternately cool or warm food supplies to maintain them at their optimal temperature and prevent spoilage. Armaments were checked and charged. The presence of these weapons was necessary not only for defense in case of another attack by the belligerent spikers but in the event they encountered dangerous carnivorous fauna. Their brief time on Quofum had already revealed an enormous variety of animal life. If experience and history held true to biological form, it was unlikely that all of it would be benign.
It began to rain when they pushed off, the silent motor backing the simple but sleek craft out into navigable water. The drizzle freshened and cooled the air. Unlike the ocean, it did not smell or taste of alcohol.
That meant, Tellenberg mused, that the alcoholic content of the local seas arose from a source other than the clouds. Did it dissolve out of ancient deposits? Could one establish an alcohol mine on Quofum? How would one identify and label such a claim? A host of possibilities crossed his mind in rapid succession, many of them more frivolous than scientific.
Off in the distance thunder boomed, hinting at heavier precipitation to come. A touch on a console unfurled the boat’s stiffened plastic roof. Seated at the controls, N’kosi swung the bow around and headed the craft upstream, accelerating modestly as he did so. Erupting from the water in advance of the boat’s prow, a flurry of winged white worms scattered, as if the silvery surface had suddenly been embossed with ivory.
“Beautiful morning.” Haviti leaned out slightly to look at the sky, which had begun to weep more heavily.
Eyeing his fellow scientist’s supple form as she turned and twisted slightly to scan the clouds, Tellenberg decided that he could not have agreed more. On the shore off to their left, something like a garbage heap fashioned of fragments of dark blue glass hastened to flatten itself against the earth, minimizing its silhouette to potential predators. Nearby, what at first glance appeared to be half a dozen tall narrow huts abruptly rose up on lanky, polelike legs and ambled off into the brush.
What a world, an energized Tellenberg found himself thinking. Not only did it flaunt life in tremendous variety, but life-forms that appeared to follow multiple patterns of development. Employing elementary cladistics he tried to construct a relationship between the long-legged hut-things and the blue glass blob, between the spikers and the stick-jellies, and failed. Even the makeup of the dense forest was suspect. Some growths were clearly composed of familiar complex carbohydrates, but the appearance of others suggested a
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