Part 33 (1/2)
The ne' squirrel s.n.a.t.c.hed one last nut from Kault's open hand and then decided it had enough. With a swish of its fan-shaped tail it scooted off into the undergrowth. Kault turned to look at Uthacalthing, his throat slits flapping as he breathed.
”I have studied genome reports gathered by the Earth-ling ecologists,” the Thennanin Consul said. ”This planet had impressive potential, only a few millennia ago. It should never have been ceded to the Bururalli. The loss of Garth's higher life forms was a terrible tragedy.”
”The Nahalli were punished for what their clients did, weren't they?” Uthacalthing asked, though he already knew the answer.
”Aye. They were reverted to client status and put under foster care to a responsible elder patron clan. My own, in fact. It is a most sad case.”
”Why is that?”
”Because the Nahalli are actually quite a mature and elegant people. They simply did not understand the nuances required in uplifting pure carnivores and so failed horribly with their Bururalli clients. But the error was not theirs alone. The Galactic Uplift Inst.i.tute must take part in the blame.”
Uthacalthing suppressed a human-style smile. Instead his corona spiraled out a faint glyph, invisible to Kault. ”Would good news here on Garth help the Nahalli?” he asked.
”Certainly.” Kauh expressed the equivalent of a shrug with his flapping crest. ”We Thennanin were not in any way a.s.sociated with the Nahalli when the catastrophe occurred, of course, but that changed when they were demoted and given under our guidance. Now, by adoption, my clan shares responsibility for this wounded place. It is why a consul was sent here, to make certain the Earthlings do not do even more harm to this sorry world.”
”And have they?”
Kault's eyes closed and opened again. ”Have they what?”
”Have the Earthlings done a bad job, here?”
Kault's crest flapped again. ”No. Our peoples may be at war, theirs and mine, but I have found no new grievances here to tally against them. Their ecological management program was exemplary.
”However, I do plan to file a report concerning the activities of the Gubru.”
Uthacalthing believed he could interpret bitterness in Kault's voice inflection*. They had already seen signs of the collapse of the environmental recovery effort. Two days ago they had pa.s.sed a reclamation station, now abandoned, its sampling traps and test cages rusting. The gene-storage bins had gone rancid after refrigeration failed.
An agonized note had been left behind, telling of the choice of a neo-chimpanzee ecology aide-who had decided to abandon his post in order to help a sick human colleague. It would be a long journey to the coast for an antidote to the coercion gas.
Uthacalthing wondered if they ever made it. Clearly the facility had been thoroughly dosed. The nearest outpost of civilization was very far from here, even by hover car.
Obviously, the Gubru were content to leave the station unmanned. ”If this pattern holds, it must be doc.u.mented,” Kault said. ”I am glad you allowed me to persuade you to lead us back toward inhabited regions, so we can collect more data on these crimes.”
This time Uthacalthing did smile at Kault's choice of words. ”Perhaps we will find something of interest,” he agreed.
They resumed their journey when the sun, Gimelhai, had slipped down somewhat from its burning zenith.
The plains southeast of the Mulun range stretched like the undulating wavetops of a gently rolling sea, frozen in place by the solidity of earth. Unlike the Vale of Sind and the open lands on the other side of the mountains, here there were no signs of plant and animal life forms introduced by Earth's ecologists, only native Garth creatures.
And empty niches.
Uthacalthing felt the spa.r.s.eness of species types as a gaping emptiness in the aura of this land. The metaphor that came to mind was that of a musical instrument missing half its strings.
Yes. Apt. Poetically appropriate. He hoped Athaclena was taking his advice and studying this Earthling way of viewing the worM.
Deep, on. the level of nahakieri, he had dreamt of his daughter last night. Dream-picted her with her corona reaching, kenning the threatening, frightening beauty of a visitation by tutsunucann. Trembling, Uthacalthing had awakened against his will, as if instinct had driven him to flee that glyph.
Through anything other than tutstmucann he might have learned more of Athaclena, of how she fared and what she did. But tutsunucann only s.h.i.+mmered-the essence of dreadful expectation. From that glimmer he knew only that she still lived. Nothing more.
That will have to do, for now.
Kault carried most of their supplies. The big Thennanin walked at an even pace, not too difficult to follow. Uthacalthing suppressed body changes that would have made the trek easier for a short while but cost him in the long run. He settled for a loosening in his gait, a wide flaring of his nostrils -- making them flat but broad to let in more air yet keep out the ever-present dust.
Ahead, a series of small, tree-lined hummocks lay by a streambed, just off their path toward the distant ruddy mountains. Uthacalthing checked his compa.s.s and wondered if the hills should look familiar. He regretted the loss of his inertial guidance recorder in the crash. If only he could be sure . . .
There. He blinked. Had he imagined a faint blue flash?
”Kault.”
The Thennanin lumbered to a stop. ”Mmm?” He turned around to face Uthacalthing. ”Did you speak, colleague?”
”Kault, I think we should head that way. We can reach those hills in time to make camp and forage before dark.”
”Mmm. It is somewhat off our path.” Kault puffed for a moment. ”Very well. I will defer to you in this.” Without delay he bent and began striding toward the three green-topped mounds.
It was about an hour before sunset when they arrived by the watercourse and began setting camp. While Kault erected their camouflaged shelter, Uthacalthing tested pulpy, reddish, oblong fruits plucked from the branches of nearby trees. His portable meter declared them nutritious. They had a sweet, tangy taste.
The seeds inside, though, were hard, obdurate, obviously evolved to withstand stomach acids, to pa.s.s through an animal's digestive system and scatter on the ground with its feces. It was a common adaptation for fruit-bearing trees on many worlds.
Probably some large, omnivorous creature had once depended on the fruit as a food source and repaid the favor by spreading the seeds far and wide. If it climbed for its meals it probably had the rudiments of hands. Perhaps it even had Potential. The creatures might have someday become pre-sentient, entered into the cycle of Uplift, and eventually become a race of sophisticated people.
But all that ended with the Bururalli. And not only the large animals died. The tree's fruit now fell too close to the parent. Few embryos could break out of tough seeds that had evolved to be etched away in the stomachs of the missing symbionts. Those saplings that did germinate languished in their parents' shade.
There should have been a forest here instead of a tiny, scrabbling woody patch.
I wonder if this is the place, Uthacalthing thought. There were so few landmarks out on this rolling plain. He looked around, but there were no more tantalizing flashes of blue.
Kault sat in the entrance of their shelter and whistled low, atonal melodies through his breathing slits. Uthacalthing dropped an armload of fruit in front of the Thennanin and wandered down toward the gurgling water. The stream rolled over a bank of semi-clear stones, taking up the reddening hues of twilight.
That was where Uthacalthing found the artifact.
He bent and picked it up. Examined it.
Native chert, chipped and rubbed, flaked along sharp, gla.s.sy-edged lines, dull and round on one side where a hand could find a grip. ...
Uthacalthing's corona waved. Lurrunanu took form again, wafting among his silvery tendrils. The glyph rotated slowly as Uthacalthing turned the little stone axe in his hand. He contemplated the primitive tool, and lurrunanu regarded Kault, still whistling to himself higher up the hillside.
The' glyph tensed and launched itself toward the hulking Thennanin.
Stone tools-among the hallmarks of pre-sentience, Uthacalthing thought. He had asked Athaclena to watch out for signs, for there were rumors . . . tales that told of sight-ings in the wild back country of Garth . . .
”Uthacalthing!”
He swiveled, s.h.i.+fting to hide the artifact behind his back as he faced the big Thennanin. ”Yes, Kault?”
”I ...” Kault appeared uncertain. ”Metoh kanmi, b'twuil'ph ... I ...” Kault shook his head. His eyes closed and opened again. ”I wonder if you have tested these fruits for my needs, as well as yours.”
Uthacalthing sighed. What does it take? Do Thennanin have any curiosity at all?
He let the crude artifact slip out of his hand, to drop into the river mud where he had found it. ”Aye, my colleague. They are nutritious, so long as you remember to take your supplements.”