"Can you do anything, Leslie?" Buccari asked.

"I don't know, sir. It all depends on how wild, ah...Tonto gets if and when he comes to," Lee said as she gingerly moved the leathery skin from around the lipless mouth, revealing razor sharp teeth. "This little b.u.g.g.e.r could do some damage."

"Can't you sedate it, tie the mouth shut, and feed it intravenously?" Hudson asked.

"It's dangerous giving drugs to animals," Lee answered. "It could die before we knew what happened. The only thing I can do for sure is set the bone and keep it immobile. Maybe try an a.n.a.lgesic, but even that's risky. Let's tie Tonto up and keep those wings from flailing. We'll keep his mouth free so he can eat. Everyone be careful."

Braan and Craag moved silently through the woods below the cave, their night vision sharply adapted, although night vision was almost unnecessary. The long-legs made it easy; a large campfire burned in the center of the tents, casting its yellow light broadly. The alien beings had finished cooking and eating, but the flames were kept high.

Stalking through the thickets of the small forest, Braan heard curious noises. They moved cautiously toward the disturbance, listening. A rhythmic rustling of the leaves and branches accompanied by quiet moans and heavy breathing greeted their advance through the underbrush. The hunters halted and looked at each other in the dim firelight. The noises increased in intensity and the moaning became insistent. The cliff dwellers were amazed the long-legs around the campfire, less than a fifty spans away, paid no attention to the mysterious noises. Intrigued, the hunters moved closer, arrows nocked. The noises increased to even higher levels of intensity. The hunters crept still closer. Braan detected movement through the shadows and pointed. They peered through the boughs, and it dawned on them. Craag squeaked a stifled giggle-dwellers enjoyed similar pleasures. Braan moved stealthily away from the insistent noises, while Craag lingered for several moments. They would have much to report.

Buccari stared at Tonto. Tonto stared back, blinking frequently, immense eyes the darkest brown, almost black, with catlike pupils. Eyelids serviced the eyeball from top and bottom, giving the eyes a sinister quality. Fenstermacher had just finished changing the blanket beneath the animal after the creature had fouled it.

"He was trying to tell us," Buccari said, putting her face close to the animal's. "That's why he was looking so panicky and squirming around. We should untie him. Next time he acts like that we should take him outside. Look at those eyes!"

"Don't get too close, Lieutenant," Lee cautioned from her sleeping bag.

"Hush, Les, and go to sleep," Fenstermacher said. "I'm on watch."

"That sure makes me feel better," Lee responded, turning her back.

Buccari was fascinated with the creature. She insisted on helping care for it, feeling responsible for bringing it to camp. She was pleased when it began drinking and eating small amounts of fish. Everyone was amazed at how docile it was. Lee suggested that the head injury had rendered it senseless and unaware, no longer capable of survival in the wild, but Buccari was certain the creature realized it was being helped.

Buccari reached down and touched the callused finger tips at the end of the beast's good arm. The spidery fingers immediately closed on her extended finger, but not tightly. She left it there momentarily and then pulled gently away. She wrapped her hand around the animal's closed fist and pressed softly. The animal watched her intently, blinking, seemingly content with unspoken rea.s.surance.

Suddenly, the creature's head jerked to the side and it struggled against its bindings.

"What's wrong, fellow?" Buccari asked, recoiling in alarm.

Tonto squeaked loudly, a broken high-pitched trill. His mouth and throat worked vigorously but emitted only intermittent chirps. Fenstermacher joined Buccari at the animal's bedside, staring down at their agitated patient. Lee threw off her sleeping bag and came over. Dawson looked up from the radio but stayed where she was.

The sentry had been the only obstacle. Craag had distracted it by rolling rocks down the incline. Braan easily moved past the perplexed guard, silently hopping along the large boulders before the cave mouth. The hunter leader looked at the long-leg camp spread beneath him; he was in full view, darkness his only shield. Braan whistled softly. Brappa responded, too loudly.

"Hush!" Braan answered. "I hear. Art thou well? Art thou in danger?"

"I am injured, my father," Brappa replied. "I was foolishly injured."

"The nature of thy injuries? Canst thou escape?"

"My arm is broken. I cannot fly. Also, I am bound." "Art thou in danger?"

"I think not, my father. The long-legs seem interested in my well-being. They have made efforts to repair my arm, and I am encouraged. They feed me, and the pain lessens."

Their activity was attracting attention. The long-legs below stirred, and shouts went up to sentries on both sides of the cave.

"Thy news is good, my son. I am encouraged. Make no effort to escape unless thou perceive danger. We will make a plan," Braan said. "Be of stout heart. Our sentry post is moved to the middle island." Harsh beams of light played against the cliff face. Killing sticks were visible.

"I understand. Please go now, my father!" Brappa pleaded.

The sentry moved closer to Braan's position. The hunter leader furtively shrilled the signal to take flight, and Craag, higher on the rock face, leapt into the night, attracting the attention of the searchers. Braan launched from his position next to the cave, exploding the air with his wings, pushing his body over the longlegs' camp and struggling mightily to gain alt.i.tude. Light beams jerked into the blackness, following the noise, and the white rays found Braan as he flailed desperately for clear air. Screams of longlegs increased, and killing sticks were raised.

Buccari's voice rose above the crowd, "Hold your fire?" I'll shoot anyone that discharges a weapon. Hold your fire." She stood silhouetted at the mouth of the cave, pistol in the air. Shannon towered at her side. Flashlight beams held the airborne beast captive in midflight, its wings beating slowly and evenly, ratcheting it higher into starlit skies. Finally it made the limit of the man-made light, wings set, gliding into the night. The s.p.a.cers, sober after Buccari's threatening order, burst into excited discussions. Their injured guest had had visitors of its own kind. I'll shoot anyone that discharges a weapon. Hold your fire." She stood silhouetted at the mouth of the cave, pistol in the air. Shannon towered at her side. Flashlight beams held the airborne beast captive in midflight, its wings beating slowly and evenly, ratcheting it higher into starlit skies. Finally it made the limit of the man-made light, wings set, gliding into the night. The s.p.a.cers, sober after Buccari's threatening order, burst into excited discussions. Their injured guest had had visitors of its own kind.

"There were four of them!" Pet.i.t shouted from his sentry post.

"How the h.e.l.l did four of them get that close? They were practically inside the cave! You awake, Pet.i.t?" Shannon excoriated the sentry.

"They musta flown in, Sarge," he replied weakly.

"Flown in, my a.s.s!" Shannon snarled. "I'll talk to you later."

The big Marine stared with disgust into the night skies. Buccari left him on the cave terrace and walked back to the side of the injured animal. Tonto rested quietly on his back, large eyes fully open in the dimness, glinting softly, reflecting light from the lamp across the cave.

"So you had visitors, eh, little buddy?" said Buccari, untying the bindings. "Tell 'em to stick around next time. We could use the company."

Chapter 14.

Government Service.

The Public Safety truck skidded to a halt inside the front gate of the Imperial Astronomical Inst.i.tute; a squad of militia troopers spewed forth, securing the gate. Scientist Doworn.o.bb was with Director Moth when they received word that all gates had been similarly impounded.

"They are going to take me away!" Moth whined. "Charged with incompetence and seditious behavior. They will shut down the inst.i.tute."

"Surely, Director," Doworn.o.bb said, "our work is too important." Yet Doworn.o.bb's fear also expanded. The director had been permissive with the freethinking scientists, largely at Doworn.o.bb's instigation. Perhaps Director Moth was correct; repressive disasters had happened at other inst.i.tutions. Not knowing what else to do, Doworn.o.bb watched the soldiers deploy throughout the grounds. He could smell the director's fear-and his own.

A second motorcade rumbled through the inst.i.tute's main gate. An escorted convoy of Internal Affairs vehicles moved expeditiously into the courtyard of the main compound, and a contingent of officials and their bodyguards were disgorged. Doworn.o.bb stared in disbelief as Et Kala.s.s, the Minister of Internal Affairs, garbed in luminous black and white, moved from an armored car. The slight n.o.blekone stood on his hind legs and transported himself thus through the main doors. Doworn.o.bb and Moth hastened to the lifts. Grim-faced guards intercepted them en route and provided a silent escort to the main reference room, where the minister and his party awaited.

"Honored, my Lord," Director Moth fawned, bowing p.r.o.ne before the minister. Doworn.o.bb attempted to slink against the wall, but a guard muscled him to room center.

Et Kala.s.s ignored them, studying instead an expansive mural, a rendering of the night sky as seen from above the planet's milky atmosphere. Minutes dragged by in silence.

The minister at last broke the spell. "Quite nice. Determine who commissioned it. I would have a similar production in my home." An aide acknowledged the command. The minister turned to face the scientists, and Doworn.o.bb could hear and smell Director Moth's fear glands exploding into action. His own immediately followed.

"Be at ease, scientists," Et Kala.s.s commanded as he reclined on a reading couch. "There is no need of apprehension. Relax! Control your temperatures." A powerfully built n.o.blekone, dressed in militia garb and standing on his hind legs, leaned presumptuously against the back of the minister's couch.

"Sit," the minister commanded as lounges were brought forward. "May I introduce you to Et Avian, my nephew," he went on, indicating the n.o.blekone, "and to Chief Scientist Samamkook, my science advisor." Et Kala.s.s bowed graciously to an ancient commoner standing on all fours. Moth and Doworn.o.bb politely leaned onto their hands. Samamkook reciprocated, and pleasantries were exchanged. Doworn.o.bb was honored to meet the great astronomer, whose published works in their field const.i.tuted the final authority. The minister allowed social niceties to run their full course, which Doworn.o.bb determined to be most peculiar if they were being arrested. And why bring along the venerable scientist?

"I come on behalf of the Supreme Leader.. .and of the royal families," the minister said, going immediately to the point. "Your report on the nature of the signals intercepted during the invasion piques our interest. It is quite easy to conclude that we repulsed a nonaggressive force. That, in itself, does not concern us overmuch. The horrible events marking the end of the Rule of Ollant will not be repeated. We have acted in the best interests of our race. Nevertheless, we want to know what happened, and you of the Imperial Astronomical Inst.i.tute have a unique perspective. There are rumors you have uncovered additional intelligence of interest." Et Kala.s.s gave Doworn.o.bb a pointed look.

"Yes, my Lord," Director Moth nervously volunteered. "We have completed an exhaustive a.n.a.lysis of all radar trajectory information recorded during the engagements-ma.s.sive data acc.u.mulations. We started the first iterations several days ago, and the results have only just today become, eh...publishable. Scientist Doworn.o.bb has finished the compilation and will have his final report ready by, er.. .soon."

Doworn.o.bb looked nervously to Samamkook, who stared impa.s.sively at the wall.

"Scientist Doworn.o.bb," commanded Et Kala.s.s. "Please summarize your report. I am told you have interesting conclusions. I could never read through scientific journals. Some reference to Genellan, I believe."

Doworn.o.bb glanced nervously at Moth and proceeded to give a detailed synopsis of his findings. He was allowed to finish without interruption.

"A compelling set of deductions," Samamkook said. "According to your theory, the alien vessels entered our system, loudly announcing their presence with electromagnetic emissions on all frequencies. These signals were overtures-attempts to establish communications." Doworn.o.bb nodded his agreement.

"We reacted quickly," continued the old scientist, "too quickly to realize the nature of the visitors. Or perhaps we did not fall into their trap-a possibility that cannot be discounted. Though I am inclined to do just that, given subsequent events. We attacked! The aliens barely defended themselves, choosing to retreat, somehow to, uh.. .disappear, leaving behind a few smaller vessels. These unfortunate vessels were destroyed during the engagements, except for a mysterious ship that managed to elude our interceptors. That single visitor may have found refuge." Samamkook held his wide jaw in a ma.s.sive hand.

"Genellan is no place for higher orders of civilization!" Moth blurted. "They may have gone into orbit, but to what purpose? The planet is bitterly cold and noxious-hopeless!" He sat back and looked about.

"Hopeless for us, Director," Samamkook said. "Yet life abounds on that cruel planet. a.s.suming they had the means to leave orbit-a large a.s.sumption-then it is no less likely they could endure."

Doworn.o.bb could not imagine living on Genellan. He had seen the queer fur-covered animals brought back for the zoos, but the conditions on the surface seemed so adverse. The miserable landscapes and weather were beyond even his fertile imagination. The sulfurous atmosphere- "...n.o.bb. Scientist Doworn.o.bb!" The minister was calling his name.

"Ah, yes m-m-my Lord," Doworn.o.bb sputtered.

"You have made progress on their language?" Et Kala.s.s returned to stare at the star mural.

"Well, m-my l-lord," the young scientist replied. "Their language is not yet revealed. I have run the signals through language programs, but it has not given us much to work on. It has provided symbology that might be useful-pictographs and signs. We could establish some communication, somewhat like children talking."

"Excellent. We can help you improve on that." The minister exchanged a meaningful glance with the young n.o.blekone and then stood and walked out, his entourage following. Moth and Doworn.o.bb a.s.sumed positions of respectful farewell and were soon alone.

The door to Doworn.o.bb' s apartment crashed open in the early hours of the morning. The kone, reluctantly awake, sat up in his bed.

"Who's there?"

A dark form shifted silently in the bedroom entryway. Other hulking shadows followed, filling the short corridor leading to his small sitting room.

"Who's there?" pleaded Doworn.o.bb, now fully awake. Fear swelled within his great breast. He prayed for the intruders to be robbers or thugs-criminals. For if they were not outlaws, then that could only mean they were government agents.

Chapter 15.

Mercy.

"Sergeant Shannon sure was tight-jawed," Pet.i.t said as they left the tundra of the central plateau; the granite slabs and rocky scrabble of the higher elevation made for easier hiking. "I thought sure he was going to ream me for letting those critters get close to the cave. He didn't say nothing about it."

"Good thing, too," Tatum said. "The mood Sarge was in, once he started chewing tail, he wouldn't have never stopped." "So, what's up his b.u.t.t?" Pet.i.t asked.

"Commander Quinn didn't want to send out a search party," Tatum replied. "I don't think the commander wants anyone to move out of sight of camp."

"Why?" Pet.i.t asked. "He afraid we'll get lost, like Mac and Jocko?"

"Who knows? Maybe," Tatum said, looking around; no cover was afforded by the flat, featureless terrain.

"Wouldn't none of us be on patrol if the lieutenant hadn't waded in," Jones added. "Heard 'em talking. Lieutenant Buccari wouldn't take no for an answer."

"She said we should also be looking for a better place to settle. She says winter on the plateau is going to be miserable," Tatum said.

"She's something else, ain't she?" Jones replied. "Best d.a.m.n officer in the whole d.a.m.n fleet."

"So why's Shannon so jacked?" Pet.i.t persisted. "He got his patrol."

"Yeah," Tatum said, "but he wanted to go himself. He's worried about MacArthur and Chastain. And he needs a break from old mother Quinn."

The patrol headed east, arriving at the plateau's edge early in the afternoon. Tatum was uncomfortable. A noxious sulfur odor bit at their sinuses, and the raw height of the plateau was intimidating. The brink was not sharp, but curved gently away from his feet, rapidly gaining in pitch with each advancing step. The rolling plains far to the east, hazy in the distance, were part of some other world. Their world was flat, and it ended, abruptly, only paces away. Pet.i.t and Jones stayed clear of the edge. Tatum shuffled backward to join them.

With no apparent way down, Tatum hiked along the meandering brink of the precipice, hoping a navigable cleft or rift would show itself, enabling them to descend and backtrack along their original parafoil flight path. They found nothing.

Sentries sounded the alarm. Strange beings were reported on the salt trail. Kuudor sent for Braan, and the leader of hunters quickly arrived, Craag at his side. The hunters studied the long-legs struggling up the steep path traversing the cliff face. One had his arm around the neck of the other, being half-carried along.

"The smaller one is damaged," Kuudor observed.

"The larger one is deeply fatigued, but thou art right, captainof-the-sentry, the smaller long-legs is near death," Craag agreed, impressed with the efforts of the big creature.

"They are not G.o.ds," Braan said.

"But they are compa.s.sionate," Craag added.

"Also unlike the G.o.ds." Old Kuudor spoke with sacrilegious candor.

"We are in their debt," Braan said.

"Thy son is not free, leader-of-hunters," Kuudor said. "Be wary of paying debts not owed."

The sun was high in the cobalt sky and gaining intensity. The cliff face doubled the sun's intensity, reflecting it on the struggling long-legs and blocking the cool northwest wind.

"Almost there, Mac," Chastain huffed. "Keep moving; we can make it."

The trail narrowed and climbed vertically; the river chasm yawned to their right. Flowers, purple and yellow, grew in abundance and thick-stemmed thistles with white spiked blossoms lined the dusty path, providing psychological relief from the precipitous drop. It was hot. Chastain plodded upward, hoping for a switchback to take them from the perilous cliff face.

"You okay, Mac?" Chastain sucked air. "Say something, Mac. What're we going to do when we get to the top? Mac!" MacArthur gasped. Chastain was thankful for the gasps-signals that MacArthur was still alive. Doggedly, the big Marine trudged the endless slope, his swollen tongue constricting his throat and mouth. They desperately needed water-the irony of the large river that had nearly drowned them flowing so abundantly a thousand meters below. And in the near distance ahead, pulling Chastain forward- teasing him-a waterfall plunged from the cliff top, its white sheet of water atomizing into angel hair mists.