The Mystery of Ireta

by Anne McCaffrey

  “My thinking, too. Now this is the part that really baffles . . .”

  The viewer now came to the scene in which fliers were aware of predator and it of them, the defensive line of the golden creatures and their orderly evacuation.

  “Kai! Kai! Where are you, man?” They heard the voice of Dimenon, Kai’s senior geologist. “Kai!”

  “Ho, Dimenon, we’re up front,” Kai replied, pressing the hold on the viewer.

  “We’re here for the transuranics, aren’t we?” asked Dimenon at his most dramatic as he burst into the small cabin, an equally excited Margit beside him.

  “You bet . . .”

  “We found the mother’s own end of a great whopping saddle of pitchblende . . . rich or I’ll give you every credit in my account!”

  “Where?”

  “You know we were to follow the southeastern track of the old cores, pick it up where it faltered? Well, where it faltered was at the edge of a geosyncline, the orogenesis is much later than this area. It was Margit who noticed the vein, the brown luster in the one sunny interval we had. We planted seismimics on a rough triangulation, and this is the reading we got.” Dimenon brandished the print-out tape as one proferred a treasure. “Rich—high up on the scale. Why, this one find alone justifies the entire expedition. And with all those new fold mountains, I’ll bet this is the first of many. We struck it, Kai. We struck it!”

  Kai was pummeling Dimenon and Varian was hugging Margit with complete lack of inhibition while the rest of the geological team began to crowd into the compartment to add their congratulations.

  “I was beginning to wonder about this planet. There were traces, yes, but there ought to have been more ore deposits . . .” Triv was saying.

  “You forget, Triv,” Gaber said, inking smears on his face which was for once wreathed with genuine good humor, “we’re on old continental shield, not likely to have been much anyway.”

  “All we had to do was get beyond the shield, and look what we’ve got already . . .” Dimenon again did his triumphant dance, waving the print-out tape like a streamer until it caught on Portegin’s shoulder and began to tear. He ended his physical gyrations and carefully began to roll up the all-important tape, which he stowed in his chest pocket. “Over my heart forever!”

  “I thought I was there,” Margit teased him.

  “This would seem to call for a celebration,” Lunzie said, putting her head round the door.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve got some joy juice hidden away somewhere?” cried Dimenon, waggling an accusatory finger at her.

  “There’s no end of ways to serve that fruit, you know,” she replied, her manner so blandly innocent that Varian whooped.

  “Wouldn’t you know Lunzie would come through?”

  “Three cheers for Lunzie! The distilling dietician!”

  “And how would you know it was distilled?” asked Lunzie suspiciously.

  “Why else was Trizein rigging up a fractional distillation column?”

  That warranted more laughter and congratulations, which was why Varian noticed the solemn heavy-worlders were absent. She said nothing about it, though she wondered. Surely Dimenon had made no secret of the find on his way up from the sled park. Where were the heavy-worlders that they wouldn’t join in the expedition’s first real triumph?

  Lunzie was saying that she wasn’t certain how good the brew would be. The product had had no time to settle or age, but surely, Dimenon said in a wheedling tone, there’d be something to take the edge off the taste of it. The group began to file out of the shuttle, moving toward the general-purpose dome. Varian saw no sign of the heavy-worlders but there was light in the quarters they shared. Passing the central standard, she rang the alarm bell in alert sequence. The iris opening of the heavy-worlders’ quarters widened slightly and massive shoulders and a head appeared, outlined by the light.

  “Yes?” It was Paskutti.

  “Didn’t you hear, Paskutti? A massive find of pitchblende. Lunzie’s distilled a beverage from the fruit. We’re going to sample it by way of celebration.”

  A huge hand waved and the iris closed.

  “They being aloof again?” asked Kai, pausing in his progress to the large dome.

  “They do have different enthusiasms, it’s true . . .” And abruptly Varian remembered the glimpse she’d had of Paskutti’s intense reaction to the predator’s attack on the herbivore.

  “All work, no play . . . c’mon, Paskutti,” roared Kai. “Tardma, Tanegli, Bakkun . . . you lot . . .”

  The iris opened again and the heavy-worlders sedately crossed the compound to join the celebrants.

  5

  BY the time he had finished the first beaker of Lunzie’s brew, Kai had considerably more respect for the versatility of the fruit and for Lunzie’s resourcefulness, which was already legend in the expedition. He might almost become a fruit freak. His taste ran to a tart flavor in beverages, and this had a jolt that was satisfying as well as to his liking.

  He was startled to see Lunzie gravely pouring small beakers for the three youngsters, but when he half-rose in protest, she gave him a placid nod. Kai watched as Bonnard sipped warily and then made a disappointed grimace.

  “Aw, Lunzie, it’s just juice.”

  “Certainly. What else did you expect to get from me at your age?”

  “You’ve added something, though, haven’t you, Lunzie?” said Cleiti, smiling to make up for Bonnard’s complaint.

  “Yes, I have. See if you can determine what it is.”

  “Probably something good for us,” said Bonnard in a mumble which Lunzie might not have heard, for she was turning away.

  Kai, thoroughly amused by the incident, moved to the dinner table and began to fill a plate. There was a mixture of synthesized and natural products, including a patty made of the algae Trizein had been cultivating. It tasted faintly of the hydrotelluride that permeated everything on this planet. Kai thought again that were it not for that stink, Ireta would be a wonderful assignment.

  He stood a little apart as he ate, watching the other members of his teams to gauge the general reaction to Dimenon’s and Margit’s find. A strike automatically increased that team’s expeditionary earnings and there could be some resentment. Of course, now that they knew the shield lands were stripped, they’d go right into the nearest orogenic zones. Finds would be the rule instead of the exception from now on.

  And that would mean Kai would have to report the finds to EV. How long would he and Varian be able to suppress the fact that the expedition was no longer in contact with EEC? The teams would be expecting some sort of acknowledgment of their endeavors from the mother ship. Well, Kai thought, he was within standard procedural methods to wait until they’d done a thorough survey of the site and assayed the yield. That would give him a few days’ grace. Then it was entirely within the realm of operations that EV might not strip the message from the beamer for another eight to ten days. After that, he and Varian might be forced to admit to the lack of communication. Of course, by that time, maybe the vessel would have passed beyond the interference of the storm and have picked up the backlog of reports. Kai decided not to worry about that problem right now and took a good swig of Lunzie’s brew. It did go down smoothly, with only the faintest trace of hydrotelluride.

  Glancing around the room, Kai noticed that Varian was intently watching the heavy-worlders, her brows contracted in an expression of mild bewilderment. Paskutti was laughing, which was unusual enough, at something Tanegli had said. Could Lunzie’s brew be having a loosening effect on the heavy-worlders? That shouldn’t puzzle Varian. He went over to her.

  “Never seen Paskutti laughing before?”

  “Oh, you startled me, Kai.”

  “Sorry, but they’re . . . they’re not drunk on the stuff, certainly . . .”

  She held her own beaker out, peering at it quizzically. “They’ve had just as much as I have, but they’re . . . they’re different.”

  “I don’t see any difference
, Varian. Except this is only the second time I’ve ever seen Paskutti laugh, and I’ve worked three standard years with the man. That’s nothing to get upset about . . . or,” and he stared at her intently a moment, “did something happen today?”

  “Yes, and no. Oh, just a rather brutal incident . . . a predator attacking one of Mabel’s type. Nasty piece of work.” She gave herself a shake and then smiled with resolute good humor at him. “I’m too used to domesticated animals, I guess.”

  “Like the Galormis?”

  She shuddered. “You do know how to cheer me up.” She stuck her tongue out at him and then laughed when he did. “No, the Galormis were clever, in their own way. They had the wit to act appealing, like the beasts we have all come to know and love through the medium of the 3-D tapes. My old practical vet instructor always warned us never to trust any animal, no matter how well we knew, liked or trusted it. But . . . oh, well. I have been with that dour bunch a lot, and I guess I’m imagining things. This is a happy occasion. So let’s make it one. Tomorrow’s going to be very busy. And,” she added, turning her body to shield her words from anyone nearby, “what are we going to do about a message to EV?”

  “Thought about that myself,” and Kai told her how he proposed they handle the problem.

  “That’s okay by me, Kai, and eminently sensible. Only I sure do hope we hear within that period. Say, you might ask the Theks in your next contact if they do remember anything about a previous expedition here.”

  “Do I convey curiosity or disapproval because we were landed without any knowledge of a previous expedition?”

  “Do the Theks appreciate either emotional prod?”

  “I doubt it, but the trick is to get them actively thinking about everything.”

  “By the time they’ve had their think, we could well be gone from here.” She paused and then, sort of surprised at her own words, added, “You don’t suppose that Elder Thek is from the original group?”

  “Varian, it takes a million years to produce the tectonic changes that buried the other cores. Not even a Thek is that long-lived.”

  “Its son, maybe? Direct memory transfer? I know they practice that between generations.”

  “That could be it!”

  “What?”

  “How all knowledge of Ireta got lost. Inaccurate memory transfer.”

  “There you go again, Kai, accusing the Theks of fallibility. And here they’ve done half your work for you!”

  Kai gave her a quick worried look, but she was teasing him.

  “Not the dangerous half . . . just sketched in the shields. Which reminds me, if you can spare them, I’d like to borrow the heavy-worlders tomorrow. We’ve got to move a lot of equipment, and Dimenon says the terrain is wicked. Gaber will have to be on the spot for detailed mapping.”

  “Who does that leave in camp on duty?”

  “Lunzie prefers to stay in, on call. Divisti wants to do some tests, and Trizein won’t stir out of his lab. Oh, fardles, the younger contingent . . .”

  “Don’t worry about them. I’ll take ’em . I’d like to see the pay dirt myself. It’d do them good. We can spin off and leave you to work in peace. I think Bonnard could manage the telltagger, even if you don’t—”

  “It’s not that I don’t, Varian . . .”

  “I’m teasing you, Kai. But the kids’ll be quite as useful for me to check the vicinity for the deposition of wildlife as the heavy-worlders. So long as we stay in the sled,” she added as she noticed Kai about to caution her.

  Lunzie joined them at that point and Kai complimented her on the drink.

  Lunzie frowned as she regarded the pitcher of liquid dubiously.

  “It’s not right yet. I shall distill it again, to see if I can’t filter out that hint of hydrotelluride.”

  “By all means keep at it, Lunzie,” said Kai and held out his beaker for her to fill, complaining when she did not.

  “You don’t need a big head for tomorrow. This fruit is potent.” Lunzie nodded toward the heavy-worlders, whose deep laughs were rolling through the dome with increased frequency. “They feel its effect and their metabolism can tolerate more alcohol than ours.”

  “They do look drunk, don’t they, Varian?”

  “Drunk? Perhaps.” It could, Varian thought, account for the way they were handling each other. Alcohol was a mild aphrodisiac for some species. She’d never heard that it affected the heavy-worlders that way. She was wondering if she ought to speak to them when suddenly, as if moved by a spontaneous signal, the heavy-worlders left the dome.

  “It’s good to see some can recognize their limitations,” said Lunzie. “I will take their tacit advice and remove temptation.”

  Varian protested that she’d only had one serving: Kai had had two. Lunzie gave her a splash more and then strode out of the dome. Gaber half followed her, but a curt remark stopped him at the door. Scowling, the cartographer came back to Varian and Kai.

  “The evening’s only started,” he said in an aggrieved tone. “Why did she have to remove the drink?”

  “She’s worried about its potency.” Varian studied the pale greenish liquid in her beaker with marked suspicion. “It sure made an impression on the heavy-worlders.”

  Gaber snorted. “No need to deprive us because they have soft heads in spite of their heavy muscles.”

  Kai and Varian exchanged glances because Gaber was slurring some of his words, whether he was oblivious to the fact or not. He took a careful sip, closing his eyes to concentrate on an appreciation of the taste. “First decent thing on this planet,” he said. “Only thing that doesn’t smell. And Lunzie makes off with it. Not fair. Just not fair.”

  “We’ve a heavy day tomorrow, Gaber.”

  “Did you tell her to ration us?” Gaber was quite willing to transfer his irritation from Lunzie to Kai and Varian.

  “No. She’s the dietician and the physician, Gaber. This stuff is apparently not up to standard. There could be adverse reactions to it and tomorrow . . .”

  “I know, I know,” and Gaber waved his hand irritably to cut off Kai’s sentence. “We’ve a big day tomorrow. Just as well we have something like this to sustain us when we’re . . .” Now he abruptly broke off his sentence, glancing apprehensively at Kai who affected not to notice. “It does have a funny taste to it.” He hurried off.

  “Sustain us when . . . what, Kai?” asked Varian, concerned.

  “Gaber came up with the ass-headed notion that we’ve been planted.”

  “Planted?” Varian suppressed the word behind her hand and then let her laughter loose. “I doubt it. Not on a planet as rich in the transuranics as this one. No way. Those ores are too badly needed. And it isn’t as if they’d landed heavy equipment for us to do any sort of mining. Certainly not transuranic refining. Gaber’s the original gloom guy. He can’t ever look on the bright side of things.”

  “I laughed at him, too, Varian, only . . .”

  “Co-leader Kai,” Varian glowered at him sternly, “of course you did. It’s stupid, silly, and I only wish that the other reports had been picked up from the satellite so I didn’t have any doubts.” She gave Kai a frantic look, then shook her head. “No, it won’t wash. We’re not planted. But, if we don’t hear from EV, I wouldn’t trust Gaber not to spread that rumor.” She looked at her empty beaker. “Damn Lunzie! Just when I need a drop more.”

  “I thought we’d decided not to worry about EV.”

  “I’m not. Just grousing. I like that junk! It’s got a certain curious jolt to it.”

  “Probably a nutritional additive,” said Kai, remembering Bonnard’s complaint.

  Varian burst out laughing. “Trust Lunzie for that. Our health is her first concern.”

  Dimenon, his arm possessively about Margit, came strolling over to them. He couldn’t have had more to drink than anyone else, since Lunzie had kept control of the pitcher, but his face was flushed and he was decidedly merry. He insisted to Kai that the pitchblende mine be named after Margit. She w
as equally insistent that they share the triumph, as was customary, and the two fell to good-natured bickering, each calling for support from special friends in the team until everyone was involved in discussion.

  Gaber was not the only one annoyed by Lunzie’s precipitous departure with the drink, and Kai was surprised to hear a good deal of veiled complaints about the heavy-worlders. It caught him unawares as he’d been more sensitive to friction between the geological teams.

  The next morning, he had additional cause for thought about the heavy-worlders, for they were not operating in their usual stolid dependable fashion; they moved sluggishly, awkwardly, looked tired and were almost sullenly quiet.

  “They couldn’t have got hungover on two half-beakers,” Varian murmured to Kai as she, too, noticed the glum manner of her team. “And their quarters were dark early. They ought to have got enough sleep.”

  “If they got to sleep . . .” Kai replied, grinning.

  Varian dropped her jaw in surprise and then she giggled. “I tend to forget they must have a sex drive. It’s a weird cycle, compulsive in the rut, so to speak, on their own planet. Generally, they don’t when they’re on a mission.”

  “There isn’t a law against it for them, is there?”

  “No, it’s just they don’t . . .” She seemed to find it mystifying. “Well, they’ll sweat it out on those slopes this morning,” she added, looking at the foothills that folded higher and higher until the overthrust mountains dominated the skyline. They were standing at the base of the saddle ridge of pitchblende, looking down the fold limb. The brown lustrous vein was visible where dirt had been blown clear. “This is a fantastic deposit, Kai. And so is its location. Why, one of the big mining ships can just squat right down and crunch up all of it without moving again.” She had emphasized her words by rolling her r’s and gesturing graphically with her fingers in clawlike attitudes.

  “I didn’t realize you’d worked with a geology team before.”

  “Galorm was explored for its minerals, not its wildlife, Kai. Admittedly the wildlife made the beamlines, but we xenobs were just along to catalogue another variation of life.”