Dinosaurus Planet Survivors

Varian burst out laughing. The poor giffs! How long had the “egg” been incubating? However long, it must have confused the giffs. And yet… her respect for the creatures grew. Not only were they food-catchers, grass-weavers and protectors of their young, they could extend those skills to include another species. Very interesting! This would be one for the tapes when she got back to the ARCT-10. Or if.

Varian entered the shuttle, opening the iris just wide enough for her to squeeze through. The one interior light made for an eerie atmosphere. Varian was only too glad to revive Lunzie and Triv. She didn’t fancy a prolonged lonely stay in the shuttle or crouched in the cave. She needed occupation. And reading revival instructions was first on her list.

She gave Lunzie and Triv their initial shots and sat down to wait. She couldn’t give the next dose until their body temperatures had risen closer to normal. She worried about Lunzie. Was there a limit to the number of times one body could undergo cold sleep? Or did it depend on the length of time asleep?

She shook her head, and turned her mind to more productive channels. If Tor had actually bestirred itself to investigate their situation, even if only for the sake of that ancient core, they could eventually expect adequate assistance. Nor had they been planted. Had they been, Tor would not have intervened no matter how eager the Theks were to acquire the core. She hoped that the object gave the Theks a hard time:

ARCT-10’s computer records, which supposedly included much of the stored knowledge of the incredibly ancient Thek communities, had indicated no previous exploration of Ireta. Yet once Portegin had assembled and activated the seismic screen to read the soil and rock analyses of the new cores laid by the three geological teams, faint signals had shown up along the entire continental shelf: signals indicating the presence of cores on a planet reportedly never before explored. Kai and Gaber had unearthed one. Though its signal was weak, it hadn’t differed from the new cores the geologists were planting. It had felt old to Varian. And it was obviously of Thek manufacture. The presence of an ancient network on the continental shelf did explain the absence of mineral deposits; obviously the planet had already been worked. Once the geologists ventured beyond the shelf to the tectonically unstable areas, the cores did what they were designed to do: register massive deposits that the shifting plates of the heaving planet had thrown up from its very active thermal core.

At least, Varian consoled herself, Ireta was interesting to the Theks even if the situation of the humans involved did not appear to concern them. Still, if the stranded victims of the mutiny could find and power up the sleds, they could improve their condition until adequate assistance did arrive.

Varian checked Lunzie and Triv. Nothing seemed to be wrong and their respiration’s were speeding up. Abruptly she decided that she’d better get out of the shuttle for a few moments: she was not constituted to sit still and do nothing.

She wandered out to the cave entrance. Hanging onto a vine, she let her body fall beyond the overhang. Giffs were swirling about. She wondered how far they had pursued the swift Thek. They seemed to be talking the event over for the crested heads turned from one flying mate to another.

How beautiful the golden fliers were! Their bodies touched occasionally, forming brilliant lances of yellow as Ireta’s sun made its morning inspection. She was all admiration for their economy of movement as they back-winged to settle on the cliff. They were not graceful as they waddled to form a loose semicircle. She hung out on the vine, fascinated by what had to be a council of the great giffs. Others emerged from caves to join the nucleus until the top of the palisade was alive with motion, with high-held triangles of giff wings, claw-fingers wriggling in agitation. The noise had become a gabbling bugling sound, curiously harmonious, rather than dissonant. What were they saying to each other?

Varian was so entranced by the spectacle that she didn’t realize how precarious her hold was on the vine until she had almost slipped beyond the reach of the ledge. She got safely back, rubbing hands stiffened by clutching the cumbersome thick vine, torn between a desire to get closer and the wisdom of remaining unseen.

She settled by making herself comfortable at the far left side of the cave mouth, where she had a good view of the sky and cliffs and could still hear the chorus even if she couldn’t see the conclave.

She looked out apprehensively when the bugling ceased and saw a contingent of giffs, nets dangling from their clawed feet, speed off for the morning’s fishing.

She was utterly astounded then, when three giffs broached the vine curtain and, neatly disentangling their wings from the trailing greenery, came to a stop in front of the space shuttle. Their attention was on the shuttle, so they didn’t see her.

Krims! she thought to herself. Then Varian was torn between amusement and sympathy for the obvious consternation of the three giffs. Had they expected to find the space shuttle broken open? A birdlike object had certainly left the cave. But there it was the “egg”, unblemished and certainly intact.