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“Now why would both fliers and that monster need the grass?”

“It does seem an unusual additive,” replied Bakkun, oblivious to the fact that Kai had been talking to himself.

“Would you set the sled down, Bakkun? At the other end of the valley from the beast. I want to get some samples of grass.”

“For Varian? Or Divisti?”

“Maybe for both. Strange that the predator didn’t attempt an attack, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps it does not like flier meat. Or maybe they are formidable antagonists?”

“No. There was no hint of attack in the predator’s manner, and only wary defense in the fliers. Almost as if . . . as if both recognized this as a place apart. That there was a truce here.”

“A truce? Between animals?” Bakkun sounded skeptical.

“That’s what it looked like. But the predator is certainly too primitive to operate on such a logical basis. I must ask Varian.”

“Yes, she would be the proper person to query,” said Bakkun, his composure restored. He brought the sled to a smooth landing on the low bluff the fliers had used to take off.

“We are not golden fliers,” the heavy-worlder said in response to Kai’s surprise at the landing spot. “That creature may decide to season its grass with us.” He smoothly took over the scope. “You collect. I will watch.”

The monster had not interrupted its feeding nor paid any attention to the sled. Kai dismounted with alacrity and, thumbing off his force-screen, began to gather grass. He was glad he had gloves because some of the blades had sharp edges—relatives to the sword plant, he decided. One clump came up, roots, earth and all, adding a new high to the malodorous air. Kai shook the earth free, remembering the birds had taken only the tops, not the root. Although the fliers had not gone in for the thicker-bladed vegetation, Kai took samples of everything in the vicinity. He stored what he garnered in a container and resumed his place on the sled.

“Look, he has not stopped eating grass, Kai,” said Bakkun, returning the scope to him.

As Bakkun eased the sled off the bluff and into the air, Kai kept the scope on the predator. It continued eating, not even lifting its head as the two geologists passed over it.

Bakkun, having been given no orders to the contrary, navigated the sled through the narrow end of the valley. Beyond, the ground fell away again to a lower level without such luxuriant growth, the soil being sandier and supporting more of the tough shrub-type vegetation.

“The cores continue down this valley, Kai,” said Bakkun, drawing his attention away from the monster and to the business at hand.

Kai looked at the seismic scanner. “Last one just beyond that far ridge.”

“This Rift Valley is very old,” said Bakkun. Kai was pleased to hear the half-question in the man’s voice. “And the cores end beyond the ridge?”

“Indeed they do.”

It was the first time Kai had ever heard uncertainty in a heavy-worlder’s voice. He understood it and sympathized, for he felt much the same way himself.

The overthrust above which they now passed had occurred at least a million years before their arrival on this planet. Yet the manufacture of the core unit was undeniably Thek. Unless, and the stray thought amused Kai, the Theks had somehow copied an older civilization . . . the Others? The Theks as copyists restored Kai’s sense of proportion. As he couldn’t expect to compete with heavy-worlders on a physical basis, he ought not to compete with Theks on a longevity performance. The here and now were important, too: twice, trebly important to him considering how short a span he could anticipate, even with all the miracles of science. He and his team had a job to do now on Ireta. Never mind that it had been done before when Man was still at the single-cell stage swimming about at the beginning of a long evolutionary climb.

4

WITH the help of Paskutti and Tardma, Varian managed to dress Mabel’s flank wound. The beast had somehow managed to loosen the edges of the filmseal, and, despite the force-screen over her