Coming to the realization that expending so much energy in the taking of revenge on a simple plant was neither efficacious nor good for one’s mental balance, he left the final annihilation of the glue root (as he named it) to the delirium of small flyers who had swarmed to feed greedily upon it. His anger at his narrow escape did not keep him from taking samples of the plant body, the motile goo-dispensing roots, and the yellow gunk itself. It might well contain the genetic source material for any number of possible useful materials in addition to a tremendously powerful adhesive. These samples he filed as carefully in the small armored specimen case built into his pack as if the organism in question had not tried to subject him to a slow, agonizing death. Escape, retribution, and scientific assaying completed, he returned to the open compartment in the deck and was preparing to resume work on the emergency beacon when he heard the whine.
Looking up through the rain, he saw a dim shape emerging from the low-hanging cloud cover. It floated just above the tops of the tallest emergents. Lights glowed along its sides and bottom.
It took him a moment of anxious fumbling to pull the short-range emergency flasher from his service belt and activate it. Intended to be visible only over a modest distance, its glow was largely suffocated by the falling rain. But if those on board the slow-moving craft had the proper equipment operating, it should automatically detect the signal from his handheld and set off an internal alarm.