“Maybe you have to acquire a taste for ’em,” she said, inspecting the remainder of the kernel.
Then she slipped it over her shoulder and smiled reassuringly at Kai’s anxious expression. “I’ll opt for the melon. You can taste that.”
They had finished the sweet and juicy melon when they heard a whistling, bugling commotion.
Varian sprang to the break in the vegetation, Kai just behind her.
The fishers had returned and all the adult giffs were assisting the net carriers. Varian remarked that either the community hadn’t expanded much or fishing and carrying were limited to certain giffs. The two humans watched as the heavy woven grass nets were lowered and emptied on the flat surface that served the giffs as central food dump. There was a great coming and going as giffs filled their food pouches and delivered the day’s catch to the cave—or nest—bound. The greed of the younger giffs was supervised by their elders.
“If only …” Varian began through gritted teeth and, sighing with frustration, she sat back against the tree trunk. Resignedly, Kai joined her. Despite the confusion of feeding, they could not have returned to the cave unnoticed. Then she grinned at Kai with a resurgence of her usual wry humor.
“I wonder what they’d make of the Thek if it appeared?”
As they waited, rain fell in torrents again. The sun shone to make the jungle a steaming bath which they had to endure. Eventually they dozed.
It was the silence that roused them, for the wind had briefly abated at sunset. Disoriented, they struggled to their feet, staring uncertainly at each other in the fading light.
“The watchers are still watching!” Varian commented after peering through the leaves.
Nine golden fliers perched at various levels of the adjoining cliffs, all heads turned in one direction.
“Can they see us here?” Kai asked in a muted voice. “Or smell us?”
“Not when we’re downwind of them. I can’t believe they’d be aware of us.” Varian did not sound certain. “That’s not within the capability of their species. Smell—that’s debatable. I think they rely heavily on sight. And I don’t think that extra sensory gifts are a likely development on this planet.”
“Comparing them to the Ryxi?”
“No, to what Trizein said about the primeval Terran life-forms they resemble.” She slapped her hand against her knee. “If only we hadn’t kept that man walled up in his lab, we might have resolved at least one of this planet’s anomalies. How could creatures that lived in Mesozoic Terra 15
Anne McCaffrey – Dinosaur Planet II – The Survivors come to be here on Ireta? Every xenobiologist in the FSP knows identical life-forms cannot spontaneously develop on distant planets—no matter how similar the worlds and their primaries!”
“Does that observation offer any clue as to how we can get back to our cave and Tor? I don’t fancy rappelling down a vine in the darkness.”
“Nor do I.” Varian straightened suddenly. “Wait a sec! Before we slept, Triv and the others were back and forth to the ravine collecting for the synthesizer. The giffs were only interested: they watched, as I remember, and were certainly not aggressive. But—”and she shook her forefinger, emphasizing the condition—“they are protective of their young. Extend that and it’s just possible that they’re protecting the cave because it’s within their territory .”
“You mean they got protective over us after a single meeting and few furtive vegetable raids?”
“It’s possible. If only we knew how long we had slept! However,” and Varian pointed at him, “if the heavyworlders got here and were their usual aggressive selves while trying to find the space shuttle, the giffs would resent such an intrusion. Well, let’s say they did. So it is the heavyworlders who changed the giffs’ passive curiosity into active aggression. Only … that doesn’t really explain the vine screen! Protectiveness can be conditioned, learned. Giffs are the smartest creatures we’ve met on Ireta, but could they be that intelligent. I don’t think they’ve progressed that far.”
Kai could only shrug as her voice trailed off: he knew little xenopsychology.
“Isn’t that a mist rising?” Varian asked, straining to see in the gathering gloom of Ireta’s swift twilight. “That might give us cover.”