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“It stinks!”

“It’s cryptogamous!”

“Really?”

“Propagates by spores. What we want is bryophytic. You didn’t happen to notice how much of the stuff in Divisti’s garden is also bryophytic?”

“If it’s fungoid, I’m automatically prejudiced.” Varian gave a small shudder. “But I didn’t notice fungi in the garden. And the purple moss was the only one of its sort.”

“Don’t disparage fungi. Some of the oddest and most repellent are delicious and highly nutritious.”

“And smelly?”

“You planet-bred types do worry about smell, don’t you?” Lunzie grinned at Varian, and began to scrub her hands with dirt to remove the moss.

“I’d think smell would bother you shippers a lot more.”

“Is it safe to explore a little here?” Lunzie asked, glancing around the small copse.

“I don’t see why not,” Varian replied, after a glance at the giffs. “I’ll just turn up the volume on the telltagger.”

They ventured farther among the huge, high-branching trees, noting the nail grooves where the long-neck herbivores had steadied themselves to reach the upper leaves and branches. Similar stands of trees were scattered about the vast plain. Distant hadrosaurs, distinguishable by their crests, were bending saplings down to reach the edible twigs.

After concluding that the area had been overgrazed, the two women took to the air again, moving southeast until the land fell away in a huge old fault of several hundred meters’ height. The vegetation in the lower portion differed drastically from that of the plain. There were also more clearings in which to land the sled, but the telltagger buzzed so continually that Varian declined to take an unnecessary risk.

“We can try the swamps where we found the hyracotherium tomorrow,” Varian suggested and Lunzie agreed that this might be a more profitable site for the purple moss.

They were turning back when Varian sighted pod-bearing trees, at the northern end of the fault. Although there was room enough to land a space cruiser, the land was occupied by large tusked animals that were either fighting or bashing headlong into slender trunked trees to dislodge pods for noisy consumption. The air sled frightened the creatures off, but Varian preferred to hover well above the tuskers while Lunzie picked, happily muttering about high protein content.

“Make a note of these coordinates, will you Varian? We’ll want more of these. They’re what give my special stew its flavor.”

Taking another tangent back to the sea cliffs of the golden fliers, they made one more stop, in fruiting trees which Varian also noted for future reference.

The fragrance of the ripe fruit, picked from boughs grazing animals couldn’t reach, filled the enclosed air sled with tantalizing sweetness.

“No more stops no matter what you see, Lunzie. It’s getting dark, and I don’t fancy night landings in that cave.”

“I might just wake Bonnard,” Lunzie said after they’d ridden on in silent appreciation for the sunset display of distant lightning that brightened clouds in the far west. “He can run this boat, can’t he? He’s smart, quick, and he thinks. Besides—”

“Look, if you’re worried, Portegin can stay with you.”

“My concern is for you, co-leader, not myself. Not that any of you are safe if it’s new blood they’re after.”

“What exactly is bothering you, Lunzie? Tell me now. I’ve had enough surprises.”

“It may just be my suspicious nature, Varian, but your Aygar did mention a beacon. It is forty-three years since the mutiny . . .”

“So?”

“What do you know of unrest among planetary minorities?”

“Huh?” It took Varian a moment to grapple with the sudden switch. “I’d heard rumors that choice planets usually end up managed by one of the FSP majors. Financing was the usual rationale. Krims!—You don’t mean . . .” Varian shot a horrified glance at Lunzie, “you don’t mean that the ARCT-10 might have been taken over by another set of mutineers, do you?”

“A compound ship does not lend itself to mutiny.” Lunzie gave Varian a tight grin. “Too many minorities involved, too many different atmospheres, too bloody strict a surveillance against a possible