The Mystery of Ireta

by Anne McCaffrey

  “Who, Trizein, rescued the dinosaurs from Earth and put them here to continue in all their savage splendor?” asked Varian.

  “The Others?”

  Bonnard gasped.

  “Trizein, you’re teasing. The Others destroy life, not save it.” Varian spoke sternly.

  Trizein looked unremorseful. “Everyone is entitled to a bit of a joke. The Theks planted them, of course.”

  “Have the Theks planted us, too?” asked Bonnard, scared.

  “Good heavens!” Trizein stared at Bonnard, his expression turning from surprise at the idea to delight. “Do you really think we might be, Varian? When I consider all the investigatory work I must do . . .” Lunzie and Varian exchanged shocked glances. Trizein would welcome such a development. ” . . . to prove my conclusions of warm-bloodedness. I wonder, Varian, you didn’t show me any true saurians, that is to say, any cold-blooded species, because if they did develop here as well, as a specialization, of course, it would substantially improve my hypothesis. This world appears to remain consistently hotter than old Earth . . . Well, Varian, what’s the matter?”

  “We’re not planted, Trizein.”

  Daunted and disappointed, he looked next to Lunzie, who also shook her head.

  “Oh, what a pity.” He was so dejected that Varian, despite the seriousness of the moment, had difficulty suppressing her amusement. “Well, I serve you all fair warning that I do not intend to keep my nose to the data disk and terminal keyboard any more. I shall take time off to investigate my theory. Why didn’t anyone think to show me a frame of the animals whose flesh I’ve been analyzing so often? The time I’ve wasted . . .”

  “Analyzing animal tissues?” Lunzie spoke first, her eyes catching Varian’s in alarm.

  “Quite. None of them were toxic, a conclusion now confirmed by our mutual planet of origin. I told Paskutti, so you don’t need to be so particular about personal force-screens when in close contact. Where are you keeping the other specimens? Nearby?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  Trizein frowned. He’d started and abandoned any number of lines of thought, and was now being brought up sharp.

  “Why? Because I got the distinct impression from Paskutti that he was worried about actual contact with these creatures. Of course, not much can penetrate a heavy-worlder’s hide, but I could appreciate his worrying that you might get a toxic reaction, Varian. So I assumed that the beasts were nearby, or wounded like that herbivore when we first landed. Did you ever show me a frame of that one?”

  “Yes,” Varian replied, absently because her mind was revolving about more pressing identities, like the name of the game the heavy-worlders were playing. “One of the hadrasaurs. I think that’s what you called it.”

  “There were, in fact, quite a variety of hadrasaur, the crested, the helmeted, the . . .”

  “Mabel had a crest,” said Bonnard.

  “You know, Varian, I think that Kai would be interested in Trizein’s identification of Dandy,” said Lunzie.

  “You’re quite right, Lunzie,” said Varian, moving woodenly toward the lab’s comunit.

  She was relieved when Kai answered instead of Bakkun, though she’d prepared herself to deal with the heavy-worlder, too. She was conscious of Bonnard holding his breath as he wondered what she was going to say, and of Lunzie’s calm encouraging expression.

  “Trizein has just identified our wild life, Kai, and explained the anomaly. I think you’d better come back to base right now.”

  “Varian . . .” Kai sounded irritated.

  “Cores are not the only things planted on this stinking ball of mud, Kai, or likely to be planted!”

  There was silence on the other end of the comunit. Then Kai spoke. “Very well then, if Trizein thinks it’s that urgent. Bakkun can carry on here. The strike is twice the size of the first.”

  Varian congratulated him but wondered if he oughtn’t to insist that Bakkun return with him. She’d a few questions she’d like to put to that heavy-worlder on the subject of special places and the uses thereof.

  10

  BAKKUN made no comment on Kai’s recall. He was apparently too engrossed in the intricacies of setting the last core for the shot that would determine the actual size of the pitchblende deposit.

  “You’ll come back to the base when you finish?” Kai asked as he placed the lift-belt for the heavy-worlder by the seismimic.

  “If I don’t, don’t worry. I’ll lift over to the secondary camp.”

  There was just the slightest trace of emphasis on the personal pronoun. Bakkun’s behavior had been grating on Kai all day, nothing he could really point to and say Bakkun was being contemptuous or insolent, but the entire work week Kai had sensed a subtle change in the heavy-worlder geologist.

  Varian’s ambiguous remark about things planted or likely to be planted dominated his nebulous irritation with Bakkun. The coleader was unlikely to panic over trivia, and the fact that she had bothered him on a field trip indicated the seriousness of the matter. What on earth could she mean by that cryptic remark? And how could Trizein’s identification of the life forms clear up anomalies?

  Maybe there’d been a message from the Theks and Varian had not wanted anyone, patching in on his sled’s code, to know. He recalled her exact phrasing. She’d separated Trizein’s achievement from the request for him to return. So, it wasn’t Trizein’s discovery in itself.

  Rather than worry needlessly, Kai occupied his mind with estimating the probable wealth of energy materials on this planet, as computed by sites already assessed and the probability of future finds based on the extended orogenic activity in the areas as yet unsurveyed.

  By the time he reached the base, he decided that Ireta was undoubtedly one of the richest planets he had ever heard about. It quite cheered him to realize that sooner or later EV would find this out, too. He, Varian and the team members would be rich even by the inflated standards of the Federation. The supportive personnel, and that would have to include the three children if Kai had anything to say about it, should also get bonuses. All three of them had been useful to the expedition. There was Bonnard now, lugging the power pack from one of the parked sleds. In such small ways, the youngsters had helped contribute to the success of the landing party.

  Lunzie was operating the veil and greeted Kai with the information that Varian was in the shuttle. Bonnard, excusing himself as he ducked past Kai to deposit the power pack, went out again, heading toward Kai’s sled.

  “What is Bonnard doing?”

  “Checking all the power packs. Inconsistencies have developed.”

  “In the power packs? We have been running through them at a terrific rate. Is that why?”

  “Probably. Varian’s waiting.”

  It did not occur to Kai until he was stepping into the shuttle that it was very odd for Lunzie to concern herself with mechanical trivialities. Trizein was at the main view screen, so rapt in his contemplation of frames on browsing herbivores that he was unaware of Kai’s entrance.

  “Kai?” Varian poked her head around the open access to the pilot’s compartment. She beckoned him urgently.

  Kai indicated Trizein, silently gesturing whether he should rouse the man. Varian shook her head and motioned him urgently to come.

  “What’s this all about, Varian?” he said when he had waved the lock closed behind him.

  “The heavy-worlders have reverted. They took their rest day in fun and games with herbivores. And a fang-face. The herbivores they evidently sported with before they killed . . . and ate them.”

  Kai’s stomach churned in revulsion to her quick words.

  “Gaber’s rumor was well spread before he spoke to you, Kai. And the heavy-worlders believe him. Or they want to. Those supplies we’ve been missing, the hours of use I couldn’t account for on the big sled, the odd power pack, medical supplies. We’re lucky if it isn’t mutiny.”

  “Go back to the beginning, Varian,” said Kai, sitting heavily in the pilot’s chair.
He didn’t contradict her premise, but he did want to see exactly what facts contributed to her startling conclusions.

  Varian told him of the morning’s hideous discovery, of her conversation with Lunzie and then Trizein’s revelation about the planted Earth dinosaurs. She wound up by saying that the heavy-worlders, while not outright uncooperative or insubordinate, had subtly altered in their attitude toward her. Had he noticed anything? Kai nodded as she finished her summation and, leaning across the board, flipped open the communications unit.

  “Is that why Bonnard was removing power packs?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you think a confrontation is imminent?”

  “I think if we don’t hear from EV tomorrow when you contact the Thek, something will happen. I think our grace period ended last rest day.”

  Kai regarded her for a long moment. “You’ve worked with them longer than I have. What do you think the heavy-worlders would do?”

  “Take over.” She spoke quietly but with calm resignation. “They are basically better equipped to survive here. We couldn’t live off the . . . the land’s bounty.”

  “That’s the extreme view. But, if they have believed Gaber and think we’ve been planted, couldn’t their reversion be a way of preparing themselves to be planted?”

  “I’d credit that, Kai, if I hadn’t seen what games they played last rest day. That frightens the life out of me, frankly. They deliberately . . . no, hear me out. It’s revolting, I know, but it gives you a better idea of what we’d be up against if we can’t stop them. They killed . . . killed with crude weapons . . . five herbivores. Bonnard and I saw another wounded beast, a fang-face, Tyrannosaurus rex, with a tree-size spear stuck in his ribs. Now, that creature once ruled old Earth. Nothing could stop him. A heavy-worlder did. For fun!” She took a deep breath. “Furthermore, by establishing those secondary camps, we have given them additional bases. Where are the heavy-worlders right now?”

  “Bakkun’s on his way back here, presumably. He’d a lift-belt. Paskutti and Tardma . . .”

  They both heard Lunzie shouting Kai’s name. It took them a bare second to realize that Lunzie never shouted unless it was an emergency. They heard the thud and stamp of heavy boots echoing in the outside compartment.

  Varian pressed the lock mechanism on the iris just as they heard a heavy hand slap against the outside panel. Kai tapped out a quick sequence on the comunit, slapped it into send and cut the power. As he was doing this, Varian pulled the thin, almost undetectable switch that deactivated the main power supply of the ship. An imperceptible blink told them that the ship had switched to auxiliary power, a pack that had strength enough to continue the lighting and minor power drains for several hours.

  “If you do not open that lock instantly, we will blast,” said the hard unemotional voice of Paskutti.

  “Don’t!” Varian managed to get sufficient fear and anxiety in her voice even as she winked, grimaced and shrugged her impotence to Kai.

  He nodded acceptance of her decision. It did no one any good for both leaders to be fried alive in the small pilot compartment. He never questioned Paskutti’s intention was real. He only hoped that none of the heavy-worlders had noticed the infinitesimal drop in power as Varian had switched from one supply to the other. He and Varian were the only ones who knew of the fail-safe device that had rendered the shuttle inoperative. Paskutti did not enter the small cabin as the iris opened. After a moment’s contemptuous scrutiny of the two leaders, he reached in, grabbed Varian by the front of her ship suit and lifted her bodily out. He let her go, with a negligent force that sent her staggering to crash against a bulkhead. He gave a bark of laughter at the cry she quickly suppressed. As she slowly stood upright, her eyes were flashing with suppressed anger. Her left arm hung at her side.

  Kai started to emerge to avoid a similar humiliating display of the heavy-worlders’ contempt for other breeds. But Tardma had been waiting her turn. She grabbed his left wrist and twisted it behind his back with such force that he felt the wrist bones splinter. How he managed to keep on his feet and conscious, he didn’t know. His abrupt collision with the wall stunned him slightly. A hand supported him under the right arm. Beyond him a girl was sobbing in hopelessness.

  Determinedly, Kai shook his head, clearing his mind, and initiated the mental discipline that would block the pain. He breathed deeply, from his guts, forcing down the hatred, the impotence, all irrational and emotionally clouding reactions.

  The hand that had held him up released him. He was aware that it had been Lunzie, beside him. Her face was white and set, staring straight ahead. From the rate of her respiration, he knew she was practicing the same psychic controls. Beyond her, it was Terilla who was weeping in fear and shock.

  Kai rapidly glanced about the compartment. Varian was on her feet, struggling to contain a defiance and fury that could only exacerbate their situation. Trizein was next to her, blinking and looking about in confusion as he struggled to absorb his occurrence. Cleiti and Gaber were unceremoniously herded into the shuttle, the cartographer babbling incoherently about this not being the way he had expected matters to proceed, and how dared they treat him with such disrespect.

  “Tanegli? Do you have them?” asked Paskutti into his wrist comunit. The answer was evidently affirmative, for the man nodded at Tardma.

  Tanegli? Whom would the heavy-world botanist have—Portegin, Aulia, Dimenon and Margit? As his broken wrist became a numb appendage, Kai’s mind became sharper, his perceptions clearer. He felt the beginning of that curious floating sensation that meant mind dominated body. The effect could last up to several hours, depending on how much he drew against the reservoir of strength. He hoped he had enough time. If all the heavy-worlders were assembling here, then Berru would arrive with Triv. When had Bakkun gone then? Or had he assisted Tanegli?

  “None of the sleds have power packs,” said Divisti, standing in the lock. “And that boy is missing.”

  Kai and Varian exchanged fleeting glances.

  “How did he elude you?” Paskutti was surprised.

  Divisti shrugged. “Confusion. Thought he’d cling to the others.”

  So they considered the boy, Bonnard, no threat. Kai looked at Cleiti, hoping she didn’t know where Bonnard had gone, hoping the knowledge wasn’t clear in her naÏve face. But her mouth was closed in a firm, defiant line. Her eyes, too, showed suppressed anger; hatred every time she looked toward the heavy-worlders, and disgust for Gaber blubbering beside her.

  Terilla had stopped crying but Kai could see the tremors shaking her frail body. A child who preferred plants would find this violence difficult to endure, and until Lunzie had achieved her control, she couldn’t spare the girl any assistance.

  “Start dismantling the lab, Divisti, Tardma.”

  The two women nodded and moved to the lab. As they crossed the threshold, Trizein came out of his confusion.

  “Wait a minute. You can’t go in there. I’ve experiments and analyses in progress. Divisti, don’t touch that fractional equipment. Have you taken leave of your senses?”

  “You’ll take leave of yours,” said Tardma, pausing at the doorway as the chemist strode toward her. With a cool smile of pleasure, she struck him in the face with a blow that lifted the man off his feet and sent him rolling down the hard deck to lie motionless at Lunzie’s feet.

  “Too hard, Tardma,” said Paskutti. “I’d thought to take him. He’d be more useful than any of the other lightweights.”

  Tardma shrugged. “Why bother with him anyway? Tanegli knows as much as he does.” She went into the lab with an insolent swing of her hips and shortly emerged with Divisti, each carrying as much equipment as they could with a total disregard for its fragility. Heavy-worlder contempt for lightweights evidently extended to their instrumentation. An acrid odor of spilled preservatives and solvents overlaid the air.

  With ears now ultrasensitive, Kai heard the landing whine of a sled. From the west. Tanegli had returned. He heard voices. Bakk
un was with Tanegli. Shortly the other lightweight geologists were led into the shuttle, Portegin, his head bloody, half-carrying a groggy Dimenon. Aulia and Margit were shoved forward by Bakkun. Triv all but measured his length of the deck, forcefully propelled by Berru who entered behind him, a half-smile of contempt on her face.

  Triv reeled to Kai’s side, shielding himself from the heavy-worlders by his leader’s body. Berru ought not to have been so derisive, for Triv now began the breathing exercises that led to the useful Discipline that Kai, Lunzie and Varian were practicing. That made four. Kai didn’t think either Aulia or Margit had qualified in their training. He knew Portegin and Dimenon were not Disciples. Four wasn’t enough to overpower the six heavy-worlders. With luck, though, they might still swing the grim balance back toward hope for the lightweights. Kai had no illusions about their situation: the heavy-worlders had mutinied and intended to strip the camp of anything useful, leaving the ship-bred and lightweights to fend for themselves, unequipped and unprotected on a hostile, dangerous world.

  “All right, Bakkun,” said Paskutti, “you and Berru go after our allies. We want to make this look right. That comunit was still warm when I got here. They must have got a message through to the Theks.” He turned bland eyes on Kai, raised his eyebrows slightly to see if his guess was accurate.

  Kai returned the gaze calmly. The heavy-worlder had surprised no telltale expression from him. Paskutti shrugged.

  “Tanegli, get the rest of the stores!”

  Tanegli was back a second later. “There aren’t any power packs left, Paskutti. I thought you said there were.”

  “So there aren’t. We’ve enough in the sleds and the lift-belts for some time. Start loading.”