The male bird peered at the scene but did not move either. As Veg staggered out, dripping, and Aquilon assisted him, it unkinked its neck and reached down to peck exploratively at the forgotten quarterstaff.
The human contingent withdrew. The manta observer disappeared. The bird remained at the neck of the peninsula until contact was broken. Aquilon held back just long enough to sketch its proud portrait.
They camped on the (calked) raft again, anchored south of the island. They consumed their respective suppers without conversation, and lay down together in the cabin when it became dark.
'That bird is intelligent,' Cal said. 'I suspected as much from its foraging habits. Did you observe the way it reacted? None of the blind animal instincts. It was studying us as carefully as we were studying it.'
'I wish you'd told me that was the bird we were looking for,' Veg complained. 'Here I was, trying to scare it away - I thought you wanted some giant!'
Aquilon stifled her laugh. The unforeseen problems of communication! Veg must have imagined a bird proportioned on the scale of Brachiosaurus! The fabled roc...
Then she thought of something else. 'How did you know how it foraged?' she demanded of Cal.
'I followed its tracks, naturally.' She heard Veg stifling his own laugh, at her expense. She had overlooked the obvious, much as he had.'I lost the trail in the marsh,' Cal continued, 'but I learned enough to convince me that the originator resembled class Aves about as man resembles class Mammalia. That was significant. So I asked the mantas to watch for it.'
'Now he tells me,' Aquilon muttered chagrined. Of course a really intelligent bird would be a different matter. She, like Veg, had been thinking only in terms of size, and probably it hadn't occurred to Cal that either had misunderstood him. 'Now that I have seen it directly, I'm almost certain,' Cal said enthusiastically. 'No such creature walked our Earth in Mesozoic or even Cenozoic eras. This is Earth - but a parallel Earth, not our own. Very similar, but with certain definitive differences developing. And there is a displacement in time that this world runs about seventy million years behind our own, geologically. Perhaps there are an infinite number of alternates, each displaced by an instant of time instead of physical distance. Our connection happened to be to this particular alternate, Paleo - a purely random selection. We could as easily have landed, on a world removed by a single year, or by five billion years.'
'Or one ahead of ours, instead of behind,' Aquilon murmured. Cal had not been joking about the implications being as severe as time travel. What Pandora's box was opening up for mankind with this discovery?
'It may be possible to trace the entire history of our own Earth, simply by observing the progressive alternates, once the key to their controlled discovery is perfected. But in the interim we are free to manipulate this specific world to our advantage, knowing paradox is not involved.'
There was something about that phrasing Aquilon didn't like.
'I don't know what you mean, friend, but it doesn't sound good,' Veg said. What do you want to do with Paleo?'
'Why, open it for human colonization, of course. It is ideal for Earth's population overflow. Same gravity, good climate, superior atmosphere, untapped natural resources, few enemies - apart from certain reptiles of this one enclave, and perhaps scattered others. This could be preserved as a zoo; it will be invaluable for research.'
'Colonize?' Aquilon didn't like the sound of this any better than Veg did. 'This is an independent world. Who are we to take it over for our convenience?'
'We are men, generically. We must consider the needs of men. To do otherwise would be unrealistic.'
'Now let me get this straight,' Veg said in his play-dumb fashion. She could feel the tenseness of his body as he lay beside her. 'You say we should turn in a report saying that Paleo is A-O.K. for people to come in and settle, and make it just like Earth. And if a few birds or lizards get in the way it's their tough luck?'
'Well, provision should be made for the fauna. I would not condone genocide, particularly in so fine a paleontological laboratory as this. But apart from that your summary is essentially correct. This is a wilderness area, and Earth needs it desperately; it would be a crime against our species to let it lie fallow.'
'But the bird,' Aquilon protested, her heart beating too strongly. 'You said it's intelligent. That means Paleo is technically inhabited -'
'Intelligent for Aves: birds. That can't approach human capability. But yes, it is most important that this - this Orni-sapiens be preserved and studied. It -'
'Orn,' Veg said, simplifying again. 'In a zoo.'
'No!' Aquilon cried. That isn't what I meant. That would kill it. We should be helping it, not -'
'Or at least leaving it alone,' Veg said. 'It's a decent bird; it didn't jump me when it had the chance, and after I'd hit it with the staff, too. We don't need to lock it up or help it, just let it be. Let them all be. That's the way.'
'We appear,' Cal remarked, 'to have a multiple difference of opinion. Veg feels that man can not sit in judgment over the species of Paleo, either to assist or to exterminate.'
'That's what I feel,' Veg agreed.
' 'Quilon feels that the bird, Orn, deserves assistance, because of its apparently unique development as a creature distinct from Earthly genera. Obviously Orn is not common here, and may be in danger of extinction.'
'Mmmm,' Aquilon agreed. Cal was that most dangerous of opponents: the one who took pains to comprehend the position of his adversary.
'While I feel that the needs of our own species must take precedence. It is nature's decree that the fittest survive in competition, and if Man can control this world operating from a tiny beachhead in the Pacific, he deserves to and is required to. The fact that the animals here resemble those of our own past is irrelevant; our species must have room to expand.'
'Lebensraum,' Aquilon whispered tersely.
'Adolf Hitler's term,' Cal said, picking up the allusion Immediately, as she had known he would. 'But he used it as a poor pretext for conquest.'
'Aren't we?'
Cal shrugged in the dark.
She felt herself getting flushed. 'Suppose some other species - maybe an advanced version of Orn - had felt that way about our own Earth?' she demanded. 'Suppose they had come when we were apelike primates, and used advanced technology to push us out?'
'We'd have deserved it. We're still apelike primates.'
'Maybe we should vote' Veg said.
'No problem' Cal said. 'Are you ready, mantas?'
From the roof came a tap - the contact of a manta's tail on the wood. Aquilon was startled, though she should not have been. They had probably come after dark and viewed the leaking sound waves, thus picking up the entire conversation. Cal had certainly been aware of the audience, and he seemed to have confidence in the outcome. Why?
Veg was silent also, probably wrestling with similar concerns. How, she wondered hurriedly, would the manta mind view this crisis? They saw things in terms of their own Nacre framework, manta framework - carnivore, omnivore, and herbivore - with rights and wrongs being interpreted through this. Veg's vegetarianism had been the original key to contact with these creatures, since they had seen him as theoretically in need of protection from the omnivore of the party: her. It wasn't as simple as that, Cal had maintained; but as an analogy it would do. Of course she had shifted from omnivore type to herbivore type, while Cal had gone from carnivore to omnivore; apparently the mantas were now wise enough to the ways of man to accept these changes. All human beings were true omnivores, regardless of their diets of the moment; man's brutal nature denned him.
'What do birds eat?' Veg inquired.
It was a stupid question and no one replied. Veg knew what birds ate; he was a veteran birdwatcher. Funny, she realized now, that he had treated the Orn so brusquely. Perhaps he only identified with small birds, the seed-eating, fly-chasing kind. As a species, of course, birds were omnivorous.
Omnivorous.
The question had
not been stupid at all. Suddenly she knew which way the manta vote would go. 'No' she said, trying to control the tremor in her breast. 'Don't vote.'
'Why not?' Cal asked her. He knew his advantage, and was pressing it ruthlessly despite the mild words. In body he was small, in mind a giant - and that went for discipline as well as intelligence.
'It's too important' she said, dissembling, knowing she could not prevail against him, and that Veg would be even less effective than she. Cal had the brain and the votes. 'Before, it was only where we wanted to go as a group, not a really critical decision. This time it's the fate of an entire world. Our world, or one very like it. This isn't the manta's business'.
She saw the teeth of the trap and scrambled to avoid them. 'Colonization would destroy Paleo as it is, you know that. They'd decide the dinosaurs were a menace to tourists or navigation or something, and wipe them out. So we can't decide a question like this by ourselves.'
'I was hardly suggesting that we should,' Cal replied calmly. 'We have merely to make an honest report to the authorities on Earth, and let them decide.'
'But they're omnivores!' she cried, knowing this implied that she endorsed a dishonest report. Omnivore - she meant it as a description of character, not diet. The omnivores of the planet Nacre were utterly savage, with virtually no redeeming qualities, in her terms. This was in contrast with the innocuous herbivores and deadly but disciplined carnivores. The term 'omnivore' had come, for her, to represent all that was despicable in life. Man was an omnivore, and had already demonstrated his affinity to the Nacre breed. That ruthless action on Earth itself to eradicate potentially dangerous fungus spores -
'So is Orn,' Cal said.
'That isn't what I meant!' she exclaimed, defensively angry.
'You're being emotional rather than rational.'
'I'm a woman!'
There was a freighted silence.
Cal was right, but she knew he was wrong, ethically. Cal had decided against Paleo the moment he was assured that it was safe to do so. The mantas wouldn't care. The Earth authorities would be concerned only with exploitation of natural resources and the temporary relief of population pressure. They would much prefer to devastate another world, rather than to abate the mismanagement of the first. There was no one she could appeal to.
'I can't participate in this,' she said at last. She got to hands and knees and crawled out of the cabin, leaving the men lying there separated by a woman-sized gap. She was dressed; the niceties of contemporary convention were ludicrous here.
She stood aboard the raft in the gentle night wind, looking across the moonlit water toward the island. Large flying insects hovered about her head and tried to settle on her. She jerked her hood up and fastened the mesh over her face, batting it against the sides of her head to clear it of trapped arthropodic life. Then she drew on her gloves, so that no portion of her skin was exposed. The night was warm, and this confinement made her hot, but it was better than submitting to the appetites of the winged ones.
It was stupid, it was cruel - but it would be worse to go along with this genocidal majority. She had witnessed the ways of man on Earth, and could not bear the thought of the rape of Paleo that was surely in the making. So - she had to go her own way, whatever that might mean.
She looked over the black water. She would have to swim. At least that would cool her off! The chances were that no large marine predators were near. The reptiles didn't seem to be active at night, generally, and their size kept their numbers down. Still, she hesitated, sadly confused inside. She tried to tell herself it was because she knew Ichthyosaurus was a night hunter, because of those pumpkin-sized eyes ... but it was the separation from those she had thought lifetime friends that really dismayed her. How could she return, once she made this break?
There was the scuffle of another person breaking through the cabin net, and Veg stood up beside her. 'Better your way than his,' he said.
She experienced a choking surge of gratitude toward him. She had made her decision on her own, not presuming his. The ties between the two men were strong, however different their temperaments and physiques might be. She had not even thought what she might do, by herself, or how she would live. Now she was immensely relieved to know that she would not be alone.
'We'll have to swim,' he said, echoing her own thought. 'You were headed for the birds, weren't you?'
She hadn't planned that far ahead, but it seemed to fit. The schism had started with the birds, really.
She touched his arm, not wanting to speak within the hearing of Cal, or even to gesture, knowing the mantas were watching. Cal was the weakest member of the group (physically!) and the raft required muscle to operate. Muscle the mantas could not supply. By leaving him, they were marooning him.
'I'll check back in the morning,' Veg said. 'We'll work it out.' He dived into the water, making a phosphorescent splash.
Relieved, she followed him.
XIII - ORN
Well after dusk Orn lifted his head, disturbed. Beyond the normal noises of the night he perceived a differing manifestation, and in a moment placed it: the awkward progress of the monstrous mams.
The confrontation of the day still distressed him. The really strange or inexplicable or completely unremembered bothered him because he did not know how to deal with it, and this recent encounter had been all of that. Mams themselves were familiar enough; they were everywhere, more plentiful by far than the reps even here in the heart of this enclave. Elsewhere on the continent they were larger and bolder and farther developed than were the primitive samples here. But nowhere did they approach the size of either Orn himself or any of the larger reps, except perhaps for their largest and stupidest herbivores. He had adapted to the changed situation in the world and learned to cope with the new creatures, before settling into this more familiar valley. But to be so abruptly confronted by bipedal mams larger than himself!
That shock had very nearly cost him his life. He had stood bemused by the appalling gap in his memory, trying to fathom the life history of the species so that he might know how to deal with it. Size was only one feature of many; these mams were different. Their myriad peculiarities had rendered them nearly invisible to him at first. Only his prior practice in visualizing unfamiliar creatures in terms of familiar ones had enabled him to grasp their nature at all.
Meanwhile, one of the creatures had approached and made contact. Orn, mindful of Ornette and their two precious eggs, had had to react to repel the intrusion.
The mam had struck him with an inanimate object, another astonishment. Orn had never realized that such a thing was possible. Inanimate things could be used for roosting or nest-building, or even riding across rough water, but never for the work of claw or beak. Hitherto. What could it mean?
And the final fluke: the mam, having by its alchemism rendered him vulnerable, had failed to kill him. The creature had instead plunged into the water and retreated, and the others with it. If they had come to fight and feed, this was nonsensical.
He remembered the way he had spared the ptera, that first day of their nesting. It was possible to abstain from easy victory, in the absence of hunger. Yet that offered no comprehensible clue to the behavior of the big mams.
Orn ruffled his wings restlessly. He was not equipped to think things out; his memory ordinarily made such effort unnecessary. But now that huge mam was coming again, in the night. Orn had to react, and to protect himself and their nest more effectively than he had before. No ancestor had faced this particular problem.
At least this night attack was in character. The mams, like the aves, were able to move about as readily by night as by day, and a number preferred the cover of dark for their foraging. Indeed, many would not survive long in this homeland of the reps otherwise, for there were many empty bellies and sharp teeth on patrol by day, and mams were tasty morsels. Only by occupying regions too cold for the reps and by feeding at night had the mams prospered.
But these were so clumsy! If the c
reatures - only two were coming this time - were hunting, they would never overtake their game so loudly. If they thought they were hiding, they were disastrously inept. Was it that they were so large for their type that they were stupid, like the brach swamp dweller whose plentiful young were such ready prey? But even the mam amblys were more careful of their own well-being than that!
Yes, they were coming here. Orn raised himself from the nest and Ornette moved over to cover the eggs fully. One of them had to warm and guard the eggs at all times, and Ornette, gravid with the third, did not forage at all now. Three times they had made connection, and two of the eggs were incubating. The final one was due tonight, and a disturbance would be harmful. He had to guard the nest from every threat.
He strode to the isthmus and waited for the two lumbering mams. Male and female, both grotesque in their inept giantism. What their mission was he could not know, for they lacked the furtive manner of egg stealers. But he would turn them back. There was a bruise under the feathers of his neck, from the previous encounter, and the muscles there were sore, but it had been an important lesson. He would not let such an object strike him again, not stand dazed. He would kill the first mam immediately and be ready for the second.
Of Man and Manta Omnibus Page 36
