* * *
"You will post guard around the clock," Et Avian ordered, his regal patience wearing thin with Corporal Longo. He removed his helmet to scratch his broad nose.
"It is too cold, Your Excellency," Longo whined. "We cannot withstand these conditions. We were not told—"
"Your mission is to protect us," the noblekone continued. "What are you going to do, hide in your tents? Who is going to protect you?"
"From what is there to be protected—besides the cold?" Longo asked impudently.
"You have Genellan experience," Et Avian said, his exasperation surfacing. "Surely you know the dangers. This continent has bears and predator lizards, pack scavengers and abats, catamounts and blackdogs. The cold is the least of your worries."
"P-predator lizards, Your Excellency?" Longo swallowed.
"Yes, predator lizards. What field experience have your men had?"
"We were facility guards at Goldmine Station, my lord, nothing more."
"What?"Et Avian said.
"That is all, Your Excellency," replied the lead corporal. "None of us has spent more than a few nights in the field, Your Excellency."
Et Avian stared at the soldier. "Post a guard," the noblekone commanded. "I will check on it. Be prepared, but do not be afraid. It is unlikely anything will come close to our tents. The animals are wary. If something comes snooping, fire your weapon into the air. That will scare anything that lives on this planet." Et Avian turned, stooped, and crawled from the tent, not bothering to put on his helmet, anger providing sufficient heat to get him to his own tent.
* * *
Longo knelt in the tent's center. The wind fluttered its thick walls.
"Do you think he suspects, Colonel?" one of the black-clad soldiers asked.
"Corporal, you idiot!" Longo snarled. The soldier dropped his head. "Perhaps," Longo replied. "B'Aane, you have the first watch. Two hours. Lootee will be next, and then Rinnk. What he said is true—they are just animals. Loud noises will scare them."
"Only if you see them," Lootee said.
"Shut up and obey!" Longo snapped.
* * *
The scientists of Ocean Station made a weekly fishing trip up the wide river. The ocean shore teemed with fish, crustaceans, and sea mammals, but one particular fish, called a speckle fish, was everyone's favorite. It was caught only in the fresh water of the great river. Scientist Kot and Technician Suppree had been assigned the duty of taking the motorized skiff upriver to replenish the supply of that fish. It was pleasurable duty, a day off from the monotonous data checking and compiling that characterized their research work. Officially, they were to take meteorological readings and collect biological samples.
With the sun still below the horizon, Kot and Suppree loaded the skiff and headed up the slack current of the great river, aided greatly by the first stages of a flood tide. Their destination was far upriver, to a place where the great ribbon of water took its last wide meanders before splitting into the sloughs and marshes of the brackish delta. The long ride in the frigid morning air was punctuated by sunrise—a stately metamorphosis of night into day— and a welcome rise in temperature. The river banks came alive with the morning; herds of long-legged gazelles grazed placidly in the frequent clearings, multitudes of river birds screeched at the passing skiff, and aquatic animals splashed in and out of the water, seeking refuge in all directions. They came upon two schools of round-backed river monsters. The broad white dorsals rolling gently across their path were the only impediment to their speedy trip north.
The kones finally beached their skiff on a familiar islet; its crescent beach, a favorite place, was swept by the direct rays of the sun throughout most of the day and shielded from the northerly breezes by a low bluff. The river ran wide and deep to both sides, providing ample protection from field predators, although a clutch of furry, flat-tailed animals had taken up recent residence.
While Technician Suppree shooed away the varmints, Scientist Kot unloaded the equipment and set up fish traps. Once the nets and traps were set, the kones took fishing poles and cast their lines out into the current. The hard work done, they commenced to relax. With the sun high enough to provide the necessary warmth, they took turns removing suits and helmets for half-hour stretches. The sun-baked sand held the chill winds at bay, permitting them to soak their great muscular bodies in the marginal warmth. After a half hour the chilled sunbather would don suit and helmet and check the traps and nets for any catch, while the other scientist would undress and bravely recline in the soft sand. Occasionally, a pole tip would dip and bend nervously, and the suited kone would lumber over and reel in a wriggling fish. These biological samples were accumulated in a well in the hold of the skiff.