Dirge - Alan Dean Foster [4]
Aside from the fact that scattering into the trees could be misinterpreted by those aboard the rapidly descending alien shuttle as a hostile gesture, there was—the feelings of a certain suspicious support specialist aside—no overwhelming reason to do so. The parent ship continued to swing in low orbit within viewing distance of the Chagos, moving neither toward nor away from the human vessel, its communicators silent, the identity of its occupants still a mystery. No one on board the Chagos was surprised when the alien shuttle braked atmosphere and began a swift, calculated curve that would put it on the surface directly in the midst of the survey team’s encampment. Indeed, given the ongoing proximity of the two KK-drive craft, Burgess and his fellow staff officers would have been perplexed had the alien shuttle chosen to set down anywhere else.
“No component of the landing team is properly trained to handle a first contact,” the Chagos’s second officer felt compelled to point out.
“Pranchavit has good people working for him,” Burgess reminded the officer. “And Maroto’s had offworld experience. Between our support personnel and the scientific complement I’m sure relations will develop in an orderly and prudent manner we can all be proud of.”
“What if they can’t communicate?” the first officer wondered. “Even the best intentions can go awry if misinterpreted.”
“We don’t have any choice.” Burgess’s expression was solemn. “I can’t tell Pranchavit and Maroto to ignore the aliens. The rest of us will just have to maintain the alert and hope nothing untoward happens down below.” Seeing the apprehension on the faces of his staff he added, “Look, there’s nothing we can do from up here. Zdanko’s contact team has been back on board for weeks because we didn’t find any sentients on the surface in our first month here. Nobody could imagine that they’d show up later. It’s never happened before.”
“There must be something we can do,” someone shouted wistfully from across the room.
“There is,” the captain admitted. “Prayer would not be out of order. All of you please feel free to invoke whatever deities enjoin your affection.” He turned back to the tridee. “Especially on behalf of those of us who are stuck down on the surface until this situation resolves itself.”
Idar and Alwyn stood beside Kairuna as they had been instructed: assembled with the rest of the survey team between the cleared landing field and the trees ready to greet the arriving aliens. Argusian vertebrates soared high above the open grassland, scanning the surface for prey or seeds according to preference. A cool breeze kept the somber proceedings from becoming stiff, making it necessary for the anxious assembled to keep moving in order to stay warm.
“I don’t get it.” Both arms wrapped across her chest, Idar watched her breath congeal in the afternoon air. “What are we doing here? Not that I’m not as curious as the next person, but I don’t see why our presence is necessary. We’re not part of any formal first-contact squad.”
“Neither is anyone else.” Kairuna gestured skyward, once. “The official contact team is stuck up on the Chagos. So the job, and the burden, not to mention the responsibility, has been dumped on Pranchavit and Maroto.” He gazed across the bobbing heads in the direction of the field, where the leaders of the survey team’s scientific and support contingents stood side by side, watching the northern horizon and waiting for something to happen. “Better them than you or I.”
“I could do a better job than any of ’em,” Alwyn avowed. “At least I wouldn’t be standing out there with my ass exposed to the four winds and no gun.”
“You heard the appraisal from the experts on board the Chagos,” Kairuna admonished him. “If these aliens intended hostilities they would already have attacked the ship.”
“Not if they’re still sizing us up and trying to gauge our strength,” Alwyn shot back. “Or waiting to see if we’re good to eat.”
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Idar challenged him angrily. “If you’re so