"Violence is a stimulus for the heavy-worlders," said Lunzie." And despite our strides towards true civilized behaviour, it can prove a stimulus for us as well: a primitive, disgusting but valid reaction." Lunzie shrugged her acceptance of such frailty. "We aren't that far removed from the slime of creation and instinctive response ourselves. From now on, I shall judiciously dilute the distillation for everyone." She walked towards the exit. "And no one will be the wiser."
“Look, Varian, we don't know yet,” said Kai, seeing how dejected Varian was. “We've taken isolated facts?”
“I've taken isolated facts . . . but Kai, something is wrong.”
" – Too much already. We don't need more."
“Leaders are supposed to anticipate problems so that they don't arise.”
“Like EV failing to contact us?” Kai gave her a long amused look.
“That's EV's problem, not ours. Kai, I've worked with heavy-worlders before. I even . . .” she gave a weak laugh, “survived two weeks of gravity on Thormeka to have some understanding of the conditions that bred them. And I did notice that Paskutti and Tardma overreacted to fang-face's attack on the herbivore. As much as heavy-worlders do react.”
“We cannot interfere with the discreet sexual practices of any group, Varian, can we?” He waited until she'd reluctantly agreed. “So, we've now anticipated that there might be a problem, right?”
“It's my first big expedition, Kai. It's got to turn out right.”
“My dear co-leader, you've been doing a superior job.” Kai pulled her from the bulkhead and into his arms. He didn't like to see the volatile Varian so dejected and, he sincerely hoped, needlessly worried. “None of my geology teams have been trampled or flank bitten . . . you've sorted out some new life forms, a bonus on your binary bit, my friend. And you know, it'd be nice if we practiced some sex ourselves?”
He startled her and laughed at her reaction, took her silence as acquiescence and kissed her. Meeting with no resistance and some co-operation, they retired, discreetly, to his dome for the remainder of the rest day.
CHAPTER NINE
A world which stimulated last evening's occupation couldn't be all bad, Varian decided the next morning, rising totally refreshed. Perhaps Lunzie had been wrong to think that just because the heavy-worlders hadn't taken along protein rations, they were going to . . . Well, there was no proof that their day hadn't been spent in gratifying their sex drive, and not an atavistic pleasure in dietary habits.
Kai was correct, too. As they had no proof of any misdemeanour, it did no good to harbour base suspicions.
Easier said than done, thought Varian later as she conferred with the heavy-worlders on the week's assignments. She could not put her finger on a specific change, but there was a marked difference in the attitude of her team. Varian had always felt relatively at ease with Paskutti and Tardma. Today, she was conscious of a restraint, stumbling for phrases and words, uncomfortable and feeling that Paskutti and Tardma were amused by her. They had an air of smug satisfaction that irritated her, though she'd be hard pressed to say what gave her that idea as the heavy-worlders betrayed no emotion. The xenob team was keeping just ahead of the areas the geologists must probe on the ground. Unknown life forms lurked in the heavy vegetation, small but equally dangerous, and force-screen belts were not absolute protection.
As the two heavy-worlders strode beside her towards the sled park, she could have sworn that Paskutti was limping slightly. Varian and Kai had agreed to hold off questioning the heavy-worlders and Varian had no trouble controlling her curiosity that day. That indefinable change in the heavy-worlders' attitude towards her acted as a crucial check.
It was a distinct relief to her to call an end to the day's scouting when pelting, wind-lashed rain limited visibility and made telltagging impossible. That it was Paskutti who called the actual halt to the exercise gave Varian some measure of satisfaction.
When they entered the compound, Lunzie was crossing from the shuttle to her quarters and gave Varian an imperceptible signal to join her.
“Something occurred yesterday,” the physician told Varian in the privacy. “Tanegli has a gash across one cheek-bone. He said he got it from a sharp twig when leaning over to collect a specimen.” Lunzies expression discounted that explanation.
“And I'm certain that Paskutti is masking a limp.”
“Oho, and Bakkun is not making full use of his left arm.”
“In some primitive societies, the males fight for the favour of the females,” Varian said.
“That doesn't hold Berru is wearing heal-seal on her left arm. I haven't seen Divisti or the others today but I'd love to call a medical on all of 'em. Only I did that too recently for the alcohol reaction.”
“Maybe Berru just didn't like the male who won her?”
Lunzie snorted “I'd say the air was blue with response yesterday. Anyway, how come you're in so early?”
“Violent storm, couldn't see, and certainly couldn't tell tag what was on the ground. I rather thought though,” she added in a drawl, “that Paskutti and Tardma were quite ready to quit early.”
“I've put a new power pack in the synthesizer and I'll keep strict account of any usage Tanegli says he found two more edible fruits, and one plant heart with a high nutritional content. At least he says he found them yesterday . . .”
“We could still be computing from the wrong data,” suggested Varian wistfully.
“We could be.” Lunzie was not convinced.
“I could ask Bonnard if he remembers the co-ordinates of Bakkun's so-called special place?”
“You could, though I don't like involving the youngsters in any part of this.”
“Nor do I. But they are part of the expedition and this could affect them as well as us adults. However. I could just be in the general vicinity of Bakkun's run that day, and . . .”
“Yes, that would not be a blatant abuse of the child's trust.”
“I'll see what Kai says.”
Kai had the same general objection to involving the youngster at all. On the other hand, it was important to find out exactly what had occurred, and if the heavy-worlders were reverting, he and Varian would have to know and take steps. He cautioned Varian to be discreet, both with Bonnard and the search.
Her opportunity came about quite naturally two mornings later. Kai and Bonnard took off north to do a depth assessment of a pitchblende strike discovered by Berru and Triv. Paskutti and Tardma followed by lift-belt to track and tag some shallow water monsters observed, at a safe distance, by the two geologists. Varian wanted to penetrate and telltag further to the north west so she asked Bonnard to be her team flyer.
She did a good deal of work with Bonnard and managed casually to veer to the proper heading. She had checked Bakkun's flight tapes.
“Say, isn't this near where Bakkun had those herbivores?”
Turning from the telltagger, Bonnard glanced around.
“A lot of Ireta looks the same, purple-green trees and no sun. No, wait. That line of fold mountains, with the three higher overthrusts . . .”
“You have learned a thing or two,” said Varian, teasingly.
Bonnard faltered, embarrassed. “Well, Bakkun's been giving me instruction, you know. We were headed straight for that central peak, I think. And we landed just above the first fold of those hills.” Then he added, “We found some gold there, you know.”
“Gold's the least of the riches this planet holds.”
“Then we're not likely to be left, are we?”
Varian inadvertently swerved, sending Bonnard against his seat straps. She corrected her course, cursing Gaber's big mouth and her own lack of self-control.
“Gaber's wishful thinking, huh?” she asked, hoping her chuckle sounded amused. “Those old fogeys get like that, wanting to extend their last expeditionary assignment as long as they can.”
“Oh.” Bonnard had not considered that possibility. “Terilla told me he sounded awful certain.”
“Wishful thinking often does sound like fact. Say, you don't want to stay on Ireta, too, do you? Thought you didn't like this stinking planet, Bonnard?”
“It's not so bad, once you get used to the smell.”
“Just don't get too accustomed, pal. We've got to go back to the EV. Now, keep your eyes open, I want to check . . .”
They were flying over the first of the hills but Varian didn't need Bonnard to tell her when they cruised over Bakkun's special place. It was clearly identifiable: some of the heavier bones and five skulls still remained. Stunned and unwillingly committed now, Varian circled the sled to land and also saw the heavy, blackened stones, witness to a campfire which the intervening days' rain had not quite washed away.
She said nothing. She was grateful that Bonnard couldn't and wouldn't comment.
She put the sled down between the fire site and the first of the skulls. It was pierced between the eyes with a round hole: too large to have been a stun bolt at close range, but whatever had driven it into the beast's head had had enough force behind it to send fracture lines along the skull bone. Two more skulls showed these holes, the fourth had been crushed by heavy blows on the thinner base of the neck. The fifth skull was undamaged and it was not apparent how that creature had met its death.
The ground in the small rock-girded field was torn up and muddied with tracks, giving silent evidence to struggles.
“Varian,” Bannard's apologetic voice called her from chaotic speculations. He was holding up a thin scrap of fabric, stiff and darker than ship suits should be, a piece of sleeve fabric for the seam ran to a bit of the tighter cuff: a big cuff, a left arm cuff. She winced with revulsion but shoved the offending evidence into her thigh pocket.
Resolutely she strode to the makeshift fire-pit, staring at the blackened stones, at the groove chipped out of opposing stones where a Spit must have been placed. She shuddered against rising nausea.
“We've seen enough, Bonnard,” she said, gesturing him to follow her back to the sled. She had all she could do not to run from the place.
When they had belted into their seats, she turned to Bonnard, wondering if her face was as white as his.
“You will say nothing of this to anyone, Bonnard. Nothing.”
Her fingers trembled as she made a note of the co-ordinates. When she lifted the sled, she shoved in a burst of propulsion, overwhelmingly eager to put as much space between her and that charnel spot as she could!
Neither she nor Kai could ignore such an abrogation of basic Federation tenets. For a fleeting moment, she wished she'd made this search alone, then she could have forgotten about it, or tried to. With Bonnard as witness, the matter could not be put aside as a nightmare. The heavy-worlders would have to be officially reprimanded, though she wasn't sure how efficacious words would be against their physical strength. They were contemptuous enough of their leadership already to have killed and eaten animal flesh.
Varian shook her head sharply, trying to clear her mind of the revulsion that inevitably accompanied that hideous thought.
“Life form, untagged,” Bonnard said in a subdued tone.
Willing for any diversion from her morbid and sickening thoughts, Varian turned the sled, tracking the creature until it crossed a clearing.
"Got it," said Bonnard. "It's a fang-face, Varian. And Varian, it's wounded. Rakers ! "
The predator whirled in the clearing, reaching up to beat futilely at the air with its short fore-feet. A thick branch had apparently lodged in its ribs, Varian could see fresh blood from its exertions flowing out of the gaping wound. Then she could no longer ignore the fact that the branch was a crude spear, obviously flung with great force into the beast's side.
"Aren't we going to try and help it, Varian?" asked Bonnard as she sent the sled careering away." We couldn't manage it alone, Bonnard."
“But it will die.”
“Yes, and there's nothing we can do now. Not even get close enough to spray a seal on the wound and hope that it could dislodge that . . .” She didn't know why she stopped; she wasn't protecting the heavy-worlders, and Bonnard had seen the horror.
Hadn't the carnivores provided the heavy-worlders with enough violence? How many other wounded creatures would she and Bonnard encounter in this part of the world?
“By any chance, had you the taper on, Bonnard?”
“Yes, I did, Varian.”
“Thank you. I'm turning back. I must speak to Kai as soon as possible.” When she saw Bonnard looking at the communit, she shook her head. “This is an executive matter, Bonnard. Again, I must ask you to say nothing to anyone and . . .” She wanted to add “stay away from the heavy-worlders” but from the tight, betrayed expression on the boy's face, she knew such advice would be superfluous.
They continued back to the compound in silence for a while.
“Varian?”
“Yes, Bonnard?” She hoped she had an answer for him.
“Why? Why did they do such a terrible thing?”
“I wish I knew, Bonnard. No incidence of violence stems from a simple cause, or a single motive. I've always been told that violence is generally the result of a series of frustrations and pressures that have no other possible outlet.”
“An action has a reaction, Varian. That's the first thing you learn shipboard.”
“Yes, because you're often in free-fall or outer space, so the first thing you'd have to learn, ship-bred, is to control yourself, your actions.”
“On a heavy world, though,” Bonnard was trying to rationalize so hard, Varian could almost hear him casting about for a justification. “On a heavy world, you would have struggle all the time, against the gravity.”
“Until you became so used to it, you wouldn't consider it a struggle. You'd be conditioned to it.”
“Can you be conditioned to violence?” Bonnard sounded appalled.
Varian gave a bark of bitter laughter. “Yes, Bonnard, you can be conditioned to violence. Millenniums ago, it used to be the general human condition.”
“I'm glad I'm alive now.”
To that Varian made no reply, wondering if she was in accord. In an earlier time, when people were still struggling to a civilized level that spurned the eating of animal flesh; to a level that had learned not to impose its peculiar standards on any other species; to a level that accepted, as a matter of course, the friendships and associations with beings diverse and wonderful: a woman of only three hundred years ago would have had some occasion to cope with utter barbarianism. It was one matter entirely for beasts to fight and kill each other, following the dictates of an ecology (not that she was prevented from succouring the weaker when she could), but for one species, stronger, more flexible, basically more dangerous because of its versatility, to attack a stupid animal for the sporting pleasure was unspeakably savage.
What were she and Kai to do about such behaviour? Again she wished she hadn't brought Bonnard. She'd been too clever, so she had, involving the boy. Perhaps scarring him with such evidence of wanton cruelty. But she hadn't expected anything like this when she thought of investigating Bakkun's special place. How could she? And once discovered, strong measures were indicated. Too late now to say that the heavy-worlders had been discreet in their vile pursuits. Too late to wish she'd never wanted to check into their activities.
On the other hand, such aberrant behaviour was better uncovered on a world where no other sentient species was compromised. She also found some measure of relief that the heavy-worlders had picked on the stupid herbivores and predators, rather than the lovely golden giffs. If they'd harmed them . . . Pure rage, such as she had never experienced before in her life, consumed her with an incredible force.
Startled, Varian composed her thoughts. She must discipline herself if she wanted to control others.
They were almost to the compound now, sweeping down the broad plain that led to their granite height. Varian found herself hoping that, for some unknown reasons, Kai had returned early. That was the trouble with bad news
: it didn't keep. The intelligence was a sore weight in her mind, festering with speculation, such as what were the heavy-worlders doing right now?
She landed, reminding Bonnard to say nothing, even to Cleiti or Terilla, most certainly not to Gaber.
“You bet not Gaber,” said Bonnard with a smile. “He talks an awful lot but he says so little . . . unless he's talking about maps and beamed shots.”
“Wait a minute, Bonnard.” Varian motioned him back, wondering about the wisdom of involving him further. She glanced towards the shimmering force-screen, the dance of dying insects registering blue across the field. She tried to think, calmly, whether there was anyone else in the compound she could trust. Then she glanced back at the boy, standing easily, his head slightly cocked as he awaited her command. “Bonnard, I'm taking the power pack from this sled. When the other sleds come in, I want you to remove the packs – hide them in the underbrush if you can't bring them inside. If any one questions you, say that your chore is checking them for lead drains. Yes, That's logical. Do you understand me?” She was unclamping their sled's pack as she issued her instructions. “You know where the packs are in the smaller sleds? And how to remove them?”
"Portegin showed us. Besides, I just saw you do it." He gave her the hand-lift which she attached to the heavy power pack and heaved it from the sled. I'll just get another hand-lift."
She could see in his expression that he had more questions he was eager to ask as he followed her to the veil lock where Lunzie now stood to admit them. As they passed her, the woman looked at the power pack Varian was trailing.
“One of the leads is clogged,” Varian said.
“Is that why you're back so early? Good thing,” and Lunzie's usually solemn face broke into a wide grin. She gestured towards Dandy's pen. Trizein was leaning on the fencing, staring intently at the little creature who was, for a second marvel, peacefully munching at a pile of grasses, oblivious to the scrutiny.
“Trizein's out of his lab? What happened?”
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