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“All right, let’s extend our search in this area. We’ll want to know what other life-forms live in these foothills before the geologists can safely work here.”

Paskutti nodded and swung toward the northeast again. They encountered and tagged three more herding types. Varian, still numbed by the earlier incident, gradually woke up to the fact that each of the new species must have had some common ancestor before evoluntionary differences developed to put them into a subgrouping.

When they returned to the base camp as the evening drenching began, Varian noticed that Tardma and Paskutti were as glad to be released from the close quarters of the sled as she was. She told Paskutti to check the sled over, Tardma to give Gaber the tape files, and she went down to check on Mabel. The herbivore had reduced the trees of its enclosure to mere stumps. The full leg seal had held, and Mabel did not appear to favor the injured leg. Varian was both eager and reluctant to release her patient, but the logistics of supplying Mabel with sufficient fodder made her independence necessary. She decided to let Mabel go in the morning and follow it, at a discreet distance, in the sled. She would like to establish if it had any instinctive direction, if it had any communication with other members of its herd or species. Today the herbivores had responded to the dangerous approach of the predator on an individual basis. Too bad the silly fools couldn’t gang up on their killer. By mass they could overpower it if they’d any courage at all. Or any leadership.

Could she stimulate Mabel’s intelligence in any way, she wondered. And as quickly decided such a program would be impossible. It would take too long and the chances of success, with Mabel’s brain space, were unlikely. Mabel needed some physical modifications to achieve any measure of intelligence. There wasn’t room enough in its skull for more than essential locomotion. Unless it had spare brains in its tail! And they’d provide more motor control, too. Of course, she had encountered species with auxiliary nerve centers for controlling extremities while their intelligence, or main brain, was centrally located in the most protected part of their form. Man was, Varian reminded herself, not for the first time, rather badly designed. She understood the Theks held that opinion.

She was strolling thoughtfully back to the compound when she heard the whush of a returning sled and her name called. She caught sight of Kai’s face. He looked happy about something. He was gesturing her to hurry up and join him. When she did, his usually composed face was brimming with excitement. Even Bakkun had an air of satisfaction about him.

“We’ve got some tapes you’ve got to see, Varian. We found one of your fang-faces . . .”

“Don’t talk to me about it!”

“Huh? Had a rough day? Well, this will cheer you. I need your expert opinion.”

“I will take our findings up to Gaber,” said Bakkun, leaving the co-leaders together as he strode toward the cartographer’s dome.

“You had a good day, then?” Varian put aside her negative mood. She had no right to depress Kai or spoil his achievement.

“Very good. Just wait till you see.” He was guiding her toward the shuttle. “Oh, how was yours? Could you clear that northeast section of foothills for a secondary camp?”

“Let’s see your tapes first,” she said, and hurried him along to the pilot cabin.

“Admittedly, I don’t know that much about animal behavior,” he said as he slid the tape into the viewer and activated the playback, “but this just doesn’t seem logical. You see, we found the golden fliers a good hundred and sixty kilometers from the sea . . .”

“What? Doesn’t make sense . . .”

The tape was playing now and she watched as the fliers came on the screen, the threads of grass visible in their beaks.”

“You didn’t think to . . .”

“I got samples of all the greens, grass and bush . . .”

“And they are green, instead of half-purple or blue . . .”

“Now watch . . .”

“Fardles! What’s that thing doing there?” The predator had entered the