The Mystery of Ireta_ Dinosaur Planet & Dinosaur Planet Survivors - Anne McCaffrey [25]
Fortunately, once she dislodged the bloodsuckers, Varian thought the flesh looked healthy enough.
“I’m going to wash down and seal the entire leg,” she told Paskutti, who was heaving with his exertions. “Just as well I’m vetting the bitten instead of the biter. Hate to run into him.” She thought of the wicked head and the rows of vicious teeth glaring out of the frame Kai had taken.
“This creature couldn’t put up much of a fight,” said Paskutti.
The edge to his tone surprised Varian into looking at him. She didn’t expect to see any emotion registered on the heavy-worlder’s blank features, but there was an intensity in his pale eyes that gave her a momentary stab of fear. She got the distinct impression that the man was excited in some bizarre and revolting fashion, by the wound, by the concept of one animal eating another, alive. She turned back quickly to her task, loath to let Paskutti know she’d observed him.
They completed the veterinary work on Mabel without further struggle, but her tail, when she was released from the ropes, lashed out so viciously that they all retreated hastily beyond range. Without the proximity of her well-wishers, Mabel seemed unable to continue her aggressive behavior. She stopped mid-bellow and peered about her, as if puzzled by this unexpected respite. Her near-sighted eyes scanned so consistently above their heads that once they stood still, Varian realized that Mabel would never see them. Mabel’s worst enemy then, Varian decided, was much larger than the herbivore’s considerable bulk and was generally perceived by smell to judge by the rapid dilation of Mabel’s nostrils.
“What now, Varian?” asked Paskutti as they left the corral.
In his very lack of tone color, Paskutti seemed to be impatient for her answer.
“Now, we check out what creatures inhabit the unknown land beyond the shield so that Kai and his teams can set up secondary camps. We’ve the sled today, Paskutti, so if you’d get tapes, we can do some prospecting.”
“Weaponry?”
“The usual personnel defense. We’re not hunting. We’re observing.”
She spoke more harshly than she intended because there was an avid intensity about Paskutti’s innocent question that was off-putting. Tardma was as blank as ever, but then she never did anything, including smile, without glancing for permission from Paskutti.
As they reentered the encampment for their equipment, Varian saw the children grouped about Dandy’s enclosure, watching Lunzie feed it. Its thick little tail whisked this way and that either in greed or in enjoyment.
“Is Dandy eating well?”
“Second bottle,” said Bonnard with possessive pride.
“Lunzie says we can feed him when he gets to know us a bit better,” Cleiti added, and Terilla nodded, her bright eyes big with such an incredible experience to anticipate.
Poor ship-bred wench, thought Varian, whose childhood had been spent among the animals of many worlds with her veterinarian parents. She couldn’t remember the time when she hadn’t had animals to cuddle and care for. Small creatures brought to her parents for healing or observation had always been her particular charges once her parents had decided she was a responsible youngster. The only creatures she had never liked were the Galormis. Her instinct for animals had warned her the moment those soft devils had been discovered on Aldebaran 4, but as a very junior xenob, she had had to keep her own counsel on her suspicions. At that she’d been lucky. She only had teeth marks on her arm where the Galormi that had attacked those in her dome had begun its nocturnal feeding. The creature had already killed its handler; its hollow incisors had proved to contain a paralytic with which it controlled its victims. Fortunately the night guard, alerted to trouble by the nonappearance of his relief, had roused her expedition,