Read Online Quozl by Alan Dean Foster - Free Book Online

it dropped down over the frozen wastes of the northern polar region. The nearest native population center was an enormous distance away.
    Breathes-hard-Out wondered what they would do if their presence was detected by hostile native aircraft. Lifts-with-Shout replied that based on their observations of the ongoing native conflict, the fastest Shirazian craft hardly moved fast enough to stay aloft. As for the drop site itself, the study team would have preferred a couple of years to choose a place. They did not have that time.
    The survey ship was small and narrow. Two sets of flexible wings folded tight against the fuselage for extra-atmospheric travel. Flies-by-Tail was already there when the others arrived. She’d been busy with the mechanics all morning, questioning them on the smallest details, making certain the backup systems for the backup systems were in full working order. At the last moment it would be up to her, not Lifts-with-Shout or the Captain or anyone else, to decide whether the team would drop or not.
    Everyone wore full scout suits instead of the more comfortable but less attractive onboard jumpsuits. No scarves, but they were permitted a normal complement of jewelry. Looks-at-Charts checked his multiple earrings. They were not expected to do their work completely naked. The full suit was reassuring. He did not entirely trust the study team’s assessment of Shiraz’s mild climate.
    It was also comforting to know that native aircraft had yet to be observed overflying the drop site. It was as remote as it was protected.
    Burden-carries-Far looked nervous despite his usual bravado. Looks wondered how the Landing Supervisor and the others perceived him. They kept their opinions to themselves. The six were the best the Sequencer could put forward. Now was not the time to show lack of confidence.
    He studied his companions for the historic journey. Breathes-hard-Out was tending to her shaving, plucking at contrary follicles to ensure she looked her best. She noticed his stare and ignored him, a sure sign their hormonal suppressants were doing their job. Stands-while-Sitting stood off by herself, silent and composed and slightly regal as befitted the senior member of the landing team. The only one unable to hide his nervousness was Walks-with-Whispers. The geologist was a worrier. It was not severe enough to compromise his brilliance, but Looks made a mental note to ensure that Walks was always assigned a companion, both on board and off. His anxieties could complicate matters in an emergency.
    Except that there weren’t going to be any emergencies, he reminded himself firmly. The first landing on Shiraz was going to be dull, predictable routine, nothing more.
    He had a few words with Walks before they boarded.
    â€œI’m fine,” the geologist assured him. “Just think what we are about to do! I am to be the first of my profession to examine the surface of a new world, a world never before visited by Quozl. It is almost too much!”
    Looks-at-Charts kept his reply deliberately low-key. “Why? Aren’t rocks the same everywhere?” He was careful to remain clear of Walks’s Sama space.
    â€œThey are not ,” said Walks with emphasis. His eyes flicked to the ramp that led into the ship. “No more time for talk, is there? Now is for real.”
    â€œAnd forever,” Looks finished solemnly for him. “Don’t worry. Everything will go smoothly.”
    â€œI know that,” said the geologist as he turned to board, “but I wish there were no natives. No, that’s not true. I wish they were civilized .”
    â€œMaybe they’ll surprise us.”
    â€œI doubt it.” Walks-with-Whispers started up the ramp, his sandaled splay feet slapping on the plastic.
    The formal ceremony of departure was brief and affecting. Stream-cuts-Through was not present. She was in the command center overseeing every aspect of the drop.
    Since the