The Mystery of Ireta

by Anne McCaffrey

  With understandable satisfaction, Kai took his own maps, and added the two pitchblende finds to those of the day before when Portegin and Aulia had sited two large copper deposits, and Berru and Triv had marked three mountains of iron ores. Whoever had been here before had denuded the shield areas, but plate action in the ensuing millennia had made the unstable areas doubly rich. This was actually Kai’s first search expedition: his other assignments had been remedial, finding veins which had faulted out, or flooding controls and deep-sea manganese dredging—all valuable experience and designed to aid him in a full-scale planetary survey like this one.

  He was so deep in his thoughts that the warning of his chrono jerked him to attention and bewilderment as to why he had had the alarm set.

  The Ryxi contact! Belatedly he realized that he should have prepared a message for them. It was easier to read a written message fast than gabble spontaneously at the speed required for the Ryxi. He jotted down some notes as the communication unit warmed to its task. Diplomatically he phrased Varian’s comments about the golden fliers.

  Vrl came on as scheduled, asking for confirmation of contact with EV. Kai replied in the negative, but Vrl did not seem too concerned. He said that they had sent their full report by long-distance capsule to their home world. He intimated that he didn’t care how long it took to arrive, he and his group were well and pleasantly established. Kai had half a mind not to say anything about the golden fliers if Vrl didn’t ask. But the avian did. Kai told him the little Varian and he had observed. Luckily he had the tape on, for Vrl’s excited reply erupted in Kai’s ears at an incomprehensible speed. Kai got the impression that he was a lying discontent, envious of the Ryxi and making the whole species up. Vrl signed off before Kai could vindicate himself or arrange another contact time.

  He was staring, bemused and somewhat aggravated by Vrl’s overreaction, when he heard the sound of a cleared throat. Gaber was standing in the iris lock.

  “I’m sorry to intrude, Kai, but we are missing one of the area maps. Do you have two copies of one there?”

  Kai fingered the tough but thin sheets. They did stick together occasionally when the copying solution dried. “No, I’ve only the one set.”

  “Well, then a set is missing,” said Gaber in his customary aggrieved tone and left.

  Kai could see him shaking his head as he made for the shuttle’s lock. Kai set the communicator for a slow replay of the interchange with Vrl, vowing that Varian ought to do an intensive study of those fliers as soon as possible.

  7

  IN the next seven days, the expedition was too busy setting up the secondary camps to indulge in any activity not strictly necessary to its primary aims. Varian found time to return to the fish rock and bring several small desiccated specimens of the fringes for Trizein to study. The man buried himself in his laboratory until Lunzie found him asleep at his work desk. She forced him to take a break, eat and sleep. He did so unwillingly and when he woke, he stumbled about the compound with unseeing eyes, though he did stop once to stare at Dandy with a puzzled expression.

  The little creature was quite tame and permitted out of its run when Bonnard and Cleiti were on hand. Varian had decided not to release it as, orphaned, it had no natural protector. Kai had to accede to her arguments since it was obvious the little beast would never reach a great size and was therefore no strain on the expedition’s time or resources. Dandy was, by nature, timid and content to follow the youngsters about, its large liquid eyes wistful or startled by turns. Kai would privately have preferred more of an extrovert personality in a tamed beast, but Dandy posed no problem of aggressive behavior. Kai still thought it a very nondescript affair.

  The golden fliers were continually seen in the skies, almost as if, Varian said one evening, they were as interested in the new occupants of their skies as the expedition was in them. She had been gleefully enchanted by Vrl’s reaction to their existence for, as the slow playback continued, the Ryxi had spluttered a repudiation of Varian’s report, indicating that an intelligent avian species was unlikely to occur again on any planet, under any conditions: the Ryxi were unique and would remain so, and any attempt to supplant their preeminent position in the Federation would be met by severe measures. Vrl suggested that this was a hoax which the biped had better forget, retract and abandon or he would recommend that all contact between Ryxi and Human be forthwith severed.

  Once Terilla’s animal maps were circulated, Tanegli and Gaber vied with each other for her time and skill to the point where Varian and Kai had to intervene. Unconcerned by such competition for her assistance, Terilla made it quite plain that she much preferred plants to charts or animals. Chuckling, Varian showed Kai the map the girl had inscribed for Tanegli indicating the disposition of flora, grass and shrub on the plains and swamp areas. A work schedule was evolved in which Terilla spent three afternoons with each man while her morning hours were hers. With increased work loads, Kai assigned tasks to Bonnard and Cleiti as he would any other member of the expedition. Tanegli usually opted for Bonnard and Cleiti when Terilla was not available for his botanical excursions. Sometimes Bonnard acted as recorder for Bakkun when administration duties prevented Kai from field work beside the heavy-worlder geologist.

  Lunzie annexed Cleiti on those days to help her test Ireta’s soil and vegetation for any unusual medicinal properties.

  Two secondary camps were sited and occupied, but it was obvious that a third camp to the far east would have to be established to continue exploration of the easterly land mass. Kai projected that over half their expeditionary time would be spent in the eastern hemisphere. He hoped that the fifteen-degree axial tilt would mean some cooler weather in the polar regions when the teams had to move to complete the survey in the western hemisphere.

  On neither of his next two contacts with the Theks did they have any good news for him of the deferred query or of the EV. Kai’s leeway on the matter of a response from EV was fast running out. He was prepared and had Varian’s support when Dimenon forced an admission of a contact lapse. Kai cited the cosmic storm in such an offhanded manner that Dimenon never thought to ask if the ores report was the only message uncollected.

  “How long a grace period we have now, I couldn’t estimate,” Kai told Varian afterward.

  “Keep ’em so busy counting their pay dirt bonuses that they’ll forget to ask.”

  “This is a raking rich planet, Varian.”

  “So? It’s up to EV to stay in touch with us, if they want the energy materials we’ve found. They know where we are.” Varian held Kai’s gaze and she jerked up one eyebrow. “You aren’t considering Gaber’s ludicrous notion, are you?”

  “It does occur to me now and then,” Kai said, rubbing the side of his nose, feeling silly but actually relieved to hear Varian air the matter.

  “Hmmm, yes. It occurs to me now and then, too. Have the Ryxi reported in again?”

  “No.” Kai grinned at her. “Did you expect them to?”

  “No.” She laughed. “They are so . . . pompously paranoiac. As if another intelligent avian could possibly threaten them. I mean, the giffs,” which was the nickname she’d given the golden fliers, “are intelligent but so far from the Ryxi position that it’s asinine for them to take umbrage.” Varian sighed. “I’d love to evaluate their intelligence.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “With your lot agitating for that eastern camp?”

  “What about next rest day? Make a small start. Go observe them, relax for the day.”

  “Could I?” Varian brightened at the prospect. “Could I take the big sled, sleep out in it? We’ve got their flight habits well documented now, we’ve caught the fishing act often enough to establish that drill, but I don’t know much about their personal life, or their matutinal habits. And there’s only the one place for those grasses they eat. They do use swamp grass for net-weaving, but I don’t know exactly how they accomplish the feat.” She gave him a sideways frown. “You need a break as much a
s I do. Let’s both go, next rest day. Paskutti and Lunzie can sub for us.”

  “What if we arrive on the giff rest day?” asked Kai with a very bland expression.

  “There’s always the possibility, isn’t there?” she replied, not taking his lure.

  Kai was astonished at how eagerly he looked forward to the break in routine. That showed how right Varian had been in suggesting it. Lunzie approved wholeheartedly, telling Kai she’d been about to recommend a day off for them both. She wasn’t so sure that observing the giffs at close range constituted a proper holiday, but the physician was equally keen to know more about the giffs.

  “What is there about winged creatures that fascinates us all?” Lunzie asked as they sat about after the evening meal over beakers of distilled fruit juice.

  “Their independence?” asked Kai.

  “ ‘If we had been meant to fly, we’d’ve been given wings,’ ” quipped Varian in a thin nasal voice, then continued in a normal tone, “I suspect it is the freedom, or perhaps the view, the perspective, the feeling of infinite space about you. You ship-bred types can’t appreciate open spaces the way the planet-bred can, but I do need vistas on which to feast my eyes, and soul.”

  “Confinement, voluntary or involuntary, can have adverse effects on temperament and psychology, resulting in serious maladjustments,” Lunzie said. “One reason why we include the youngsters on planetfall assignments as often as possible.”

  Kai remained silent, acutely conscious of his own sometimes pressing agoraphobia.

  “We have surrogate wings,” Lunzie continued, “in the agency of sleds and lift-belts . . .”

  “Which do not quite produce the same freedoms,” said Kai slowly, wondering what it would feel like to be independent of all artificial aids: to dip, dive, soar and glide without the unconscious restrictive considerations of fuel, stress, mental fatigue.

  “Why, Kai,” said Varian, regarding him with delighted astonishment, “you’re the last one I’d expect to understand.”

  “Perhaps,” he said with a wry smile, “you planet-bred types underestimate the ship-bred.”

  Dimenon, who’d been in an uproariously good mood that evening, since he and Margit had flown in to report finding not only a stream running with gold nuggets but the parent lode, had brought out his hand piano. He began to render a boisterous ballad with interminable verses and a silly syllabic chorus with such an infectious tune that everyone joined in. To Kai’s surprise, so did the heavy-worlders, thumping the plasfloor with their heavy boots and clapping with unusual enthusiasm.

  Margit wanted to dance and dragged Kai onto the floor, yelling at Dimenon to leave off the endless verses and play some decent music. Kai was never certain when the heavy-worlders disappeared, but the convivial gathering lasted well past the rise of the third moon.

  He awoke suddenly the next morning, with an urgency that suggested danger. When he scrambled out of the sleeping sack to the window of his dome, the scene was quiet. Dandy was sprawled asleep in his pen. There was no movement. The day had started, the brighter patch of cloud which was the sun was well above the soft slope of the eastern hills. Whatever had alarmed his subconscious was not apparent.

  He was roused and so keyed up by the abrupt triggering that he decided to remain up. He dragged on a clean ship suit, inserted fresh linings in his boots and fastened them. He had a small larder in his dome and broke open a wake-up beaker, reminding himself to check with Lunzie today on the state of the stores. He could not shake his sensation that something was amiss, so he did a tour of the encampment.

  There wasn’t a smell of smoke in the main dome. Gaber was fast asleep in his, the windows were opaqued in the other sleeping quarters so he did not intrude. Remembering Trizein’s tendency to work through a night, he made his way quickly to the shuttle craft, waving open the iris lock. The conditioned air inside gave him pause. Suddenly he realized that he hadn’t put his nose filters in: and he hadn’t smelled Ireta!

  “Muhlah! I’m getting used to it.” His soft exclamation echoed in the bare main cabin of the shuttle. Kai walked quietly back to Trizein’s lab, opening the iris and peering in. Some experiments were in progress, judging by the activity of dials and gauges in the built-in equipment, but Trizein’s form on the ledge-bed was motionless.

  As Kai turned from the lab, he noticed that the supply hold iris was open. He must caution Trizein about that. Lunzie kept her decanted fruit brew in there. Kai had noticed Dimenon’s conspicuous consumption the night before and his aggressiveness when Margit suggested he’d had enough. Kai didn’t quite put it past the man to appropriate a flask for evening use in the secondary camp. Not a habit he’d approve or condone in any of his team members.

  Although his inspection satisfied him that nothing was demonstrably wrong, his uneasiness remained until, after returning to his dome, he became immersed in the restricted file in the ship’s data bank. By the time the rest of the expedition was stirring, he had rid himself of the backlog of detail. The inadvertent early rising had been rewarding.

  Dimenon, looking untouched by the previous evening’s carousal, arrived in the main dome with Margit, both suited up and ready to return to their base. They ate quickly, wanting to make an early start back, but as they were leaving, Dimenon asked Kai when he expected to contact the Theks again. He did not seem disturbed when Kai gave a time three days later.

  “Well, let us know how EV appreciates our labors on this stinking planet. Although—” Dimenon frowned and felt his nostrils. “Rake it! I forgot to put ’em in again!”

  “Smell anything?” asked Kai, amused.

  Dimenon’s eyes began to widen and his mouth dropped in exaggerated reaction.

  “I’ve got used to the stench!” He roared the statement, full of aggrieved incredulity. “Kai, please, when you’ve got through to EV, have them pick us up before schedule? Please, I’ve got used to the stench of hydrotelluride.” He clutched at his throat now, contorting his face as though in terminal agony, “I can’t stand it. I can’t stand it.”

  Lunzie, who was literal-minded, came rushing up, frowning with anxiety while Kai tried to gesture reassurance. Others were grinning at Dimenon’s histrionics, but the heavy-worlders, after uninterested glances at the geologist, turned back to their own quiet-toned discussions. Lunzie still hadn’t realized that Dimenon was acting. He grabbed at her shoulders now.

  “Tell me, Lunzie, tell me I’m not a goner. My sense of smell’ll come back, won’t it? Once I’m in decent air? Oh, don’t tell me I’ll never be able to smell nothing in the air again . . .”

  “If the acclimatization should be permanent, you could always get an Iretan air-conditioner for your shipboard quarters,” Lunzie replied, apparently in earnest.

  Dimenon looked horrified and, for a moment, didn’t catch the brand of the physician’s humor.

  “C’mon, partner, you’ve been bested,” said Margit, taking him by the arm. “Better to smell the sweet air of another find . . .”

  “Could you get so used to Iretan stink you’d never smell normally again?” Bonnard asked Lunzie, a little worried as he watched the two geologists leave.

  “No,” said Lunzie with a dry chuckle. “The smell is powerful but I doubt there’s any permanent desensitization. The temporary effect is somewhat of a blessing. Do you have it?”

  Bonnard nodded uncertainly. “But I didn’t know I couldn’t smell it anymore until Dimenon mentioned it.” This worried him.

  “Since you are now used to the overbearing smell, see if you can now distinguish other, previously unsensed odors while you’re out and about today.”

  “Worse ones?” Bonnard regarded Lunzie, appalled.

  “I can smell a difference in the blossoms I’ve been cataloguing,” said Terilla. “And some of the leaves have an odor if you crush ’em . Not too bad a smell, really,” she added helpfully.

  That morning Kai checked with Lunzie about stores. She was not the sort of person to give spot replies and together they w
ent to the store hold.

  “I’m not missing any of the fruit distillation, if that’s what you’re worried about, Kai,” she said in her direct fashion. “We’ve not made too many inroads in the subsistence supplies, either. I’ve been gradually phasing them out entirely, in favor of local protein.”

  “You have,” Kai was surprised.

  “You hadn’t noticed?” There was a slight emphasis on the pronoun. Lunzie smiled briefly with pleasure at the success of her program. “We are losing hard goods, though, at a rate which worries me.”

  “Hard goods?”

  “Knives, film and sheet extruders, spare charges for lift-belts . . .”

  “What did the secondary camps take?”

  “Not enough to account for some of these items. Unless, of course, they haven’t reported the losses and have merely helped themselves when I was busy elsewhere.” That solu- tion sounded plausible. “If I may, I’ll appoint Cleiti as requisitions officer and have her on hand when anyone needs to visit the supply hold. We can keep a check that way without giving offense . . .”

  Or warning, thought Kai, and then decided that his imagination was working overtime. He did need that day’s respite.

  Varian returned to the camp from one of her search-and-identify sweeps early on the afternoon before rest day. She cornered Kai in his dome, scornfully clacking the tape holders that were stacked in front of him, tugging at the seismic point-out on the volcanic action in the northwest which he had been studying. Pressures were mounting on a long transform fault and he was hoping they’d have enough warning to be able to observe the earthquake when the phenomenon occurred.

  “Leave that, Kai. You can zip through report work a lot faster with a fresh mind.”

  “It’s early yet . . .”