Dirge - Alan Dean Foster [5]
“Let me guess.” Kairuna responded before the other man could reply. “Money.”
“Good guess.” Alwyn tugged the brim of his warming cap down over his forehead, trying to shut out the wind. “But that’s not the only reason. Earth was getting too dangerous. Too many people crammed into too many big cities. That’s what the colonies are all about. Room to move around and keep clear of the crazies.”
“So why didn’t you apply to move to one of the Centaurus worlds, or New Riviera?” Idar wondered aloud. “With your technical qualifications you could have emigrated anywhere.”
“It’s the same there as on Earth,” he responded without hesitation. “Too many lunatics. The only difference between Earth and the colonies is that the more adventurous nuts apply for emigration.” He nodded skyward. “Deep space seemed the safer bet. At the time.”
“It still is.” Kairuna exuded quiet assurance. “I think you’re going to be surprised. I think we’re all going to be surprised.”
“Yeah, we’ll be surprised, all right,” the specialist muttered. “That’s why I’m standing back here, as far away from the designated greeting point as possible. Closer to the forest that way. At least in the woods we’ll have a chance.”
“You’ll have a chance.” Idar did not try to hide her distaste. “The rest of us aren’t going anywhere. I’ve got work to do, and as soon as this formality is concluded, I’m going right back to it.”
Not deigning to respond, Alwyn turned to his other companion. “What about you, Kai? You with me?”
“Only as far as dinner.” The big man taunted him gently. “Why wait for disaster to strike, Alwyn? Why not make a break for the forest now, before the unspeakably horrid alien invaders arrive?”
“Because I’d have my pay docked for disobeying a general directive, and you know it. Go ahead and laugh. We’ll see which one of us snickers last, and which of us is still able to do so.”
“Hush!” Idar was staring to the north, where the first snow-covered mountains rose above miscolored alien trees. “I think it’s coming.”
At first nothing more than a distant point of light sifting down through an azure sky, the alien landing craft grew rapidly in size and dimension until its descending silhouette differentiated sharply from the framing clouds. Assembled between field and forest, fewer than a hundred human faces strained to make out the lines and design of the unknown vessel.
As it drew nearer still they saw that it boasted a peculiar arrangement of wheels instead of the familiar, all-purpose struts that extended from the underside of similar human and thranx craft. Half a dozen wings protruded from its flanks, running from the nose all the way back to the tail. This extravagance of lifting surfaces was counterbalanced by an absence of any visible antennae or weapons. Tinted bright yellow, the sides and undercarriage of the alien superstructure were flecked with unfamiliar and indecipherable mauve hieroglyphs.
The landing was smooth and almost silent, as if the pilots had been practicing on similar open fields for years. As the whine of multiple engines became tolerable, hands fell from ears to shade eyes as the craft turned to approach the crowd. There being no need for ceremony while engaged in survey, Pranchavit and Maroto were reduced to greeting the visitors in clean duty clothes. Kairuna smiled to himself. The prim head of the Argus scientific team, at least, was no doubt regretting the absence of his fancy dress uniform.
There was a stirring as the landing craft maintained speed during its turn, and a few of those gathered in front found themselves wondering if perhaps their desire for a good view of the proceedings might not be misplaced. But the many-winged alien lander pivoted neatly on its double set of nose wheels and lined up parallel to the crowd. Those in front relaxed. Nothing of an overtly offensive nature was in evidence. Kairuna knew of several researchers and techs who had armed themselves in defiance of directives. Pistols remained