Only Kronians would have deliberated over the question. It had never crossed Keene’s mind not to. “Okay,” he replied simply.
“And Charlie’s peeved because he can’t be in on it too. He says you could have saved some of the interesting stuff.” Charlie Hu was still up on the ship, analyzing planet-wide geological data and hadn’t managed to make it down to the surface yet.
“Tell him I’m sure there’ll be plenty more in store to keep him happy,” Keene said.
“Well then . . . good luck. That’s really all I wanted to say, I suppose.”
“We’ll just have to see how it goes. There isn’t any set game plan.”
“I’m sure you’ll improvise appropriately. We’ll just watch from the wings and leave you to it unless you call us in. We have every confidence in you and your team.”
Typical Gallian. Keene smiled inwardly. “Thanks,” he acknowledged.
Gallian cleared down.
“How are the seismic readings?” Jorff inquired in front, to the Serengeti operator. Steady earthquake and volcanic activity had been detected in the regions to the east, beyond the central range of shattered rocky desolation known as the “Spine,” ever since the first probes from the Varuna landed. Some of the lava lakes there were still molten in the centers.
“Holding steady. No signs of anything unusual building up.”
“Uh-huh.”
* * *
It took the Scout several hours to negotiate a path southward and down through the hilly region, avoiding several difficult patches and following a course roughly parallel to the river. Twice, it was forced to back up and find another route: first, from the top of steep slopes of mud and precarious rock falls that were revealed as more treacherous close up than they had seemed from the probe preview; and again by impassable fissures venting sulfur gases. But finally it emerged onto a boulder-strewn slope above the settlement, with the probe stationed high up and circling at an unobtrusive distance, watching through telescopic lenses. The Scout stopped a few hundred yards above the rude collection of huts and shelters, where smoke was rising from a cooking fire. Figures came out and stared. Some went back inside. After a short delay, a small group came out and approached warily.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Of course, Rakki went first to meet the apparition. To be seen cowering back, allowing others to take whatever risk was involved would have been unthinkable. He walked slowly up the slope toward where it had stopped, gripping his club resolutely. Gap Teeth and White Head followed him a pace or two behind, and Sims was to one side. Actually, Rakki was more making a show of fortitude to impress his followers watching from among the huts and rocks behind—a wisdom he had learned from Jemmo. White Head’s elation on seeing the metal bird, and even a flicker of excitement and maybe hope from Sims, the only other Oldworlder at Joburg, had reassured him that there was probably little to be fearful of. But all the same, Rakki’s nature and all of his consciously recollected experiences made him cautious.
There was something about its form and its lines that evoked an echo from the distant past—a fleeting feeling that this was not a totally new experience. He had seen an object vaguely like this before, or maybe an image of one, at some time in that far, forgotten world that now came and went only in odd moments as fragments of faded dreams. The noise it had been making when it appeared at the top of the slope had ceased. It had a heavy, oppressive odor, like the tar marshes, and was colored in red patches separated by white stripes and lines, like the plumage of some birds that sometimes passed through, usually heading north. But instead of having legs, it moved on deformable bags that bulged like skins filled with water, and turned to lay down the same strip of surface again and again along the ground. The body had windows like the openings in the walls of the huts Rakki’s people had built, but covered with what looked like sheets of solid water. He guessed it was like the “glass” that he had seen small pieces of in some of the Oldworld articles at the caves. Faces were looking out at them from behind the windows.