Ethan looked forward. Moware and his colleagues were all but falling overboard in their haste to snap close-ups. “Don’t tell the scholars. They’ll want to obtain a sample of the toxin.” He turned his gaze back to the dyella, fascinated by its supple, seemingly effortless method of propulsion. It had no trouble keeping up with the Slanderscree.
“What do they eat out here? That’s a big animal, and you don’t need poison to take down pika-pina.”
Ta-hoding leaned forward so he could peer toward the bow, grunting as his belly was indented by the railing. After a few moments he pointed sharply to the southeast. “There, achivars!”
The herd to which the captain was referring soon came into view and Ethan realized the dyella hadn’t been following the icerigger. It had been pursuing the herd of herbivores. Each achivar was about the size of a pig. In addition to their fur, the achivar were covered with meter-long spines. At the tip of each spine was a small winglike membrane. By raising and lowering their spines and adjusting how they lined up, the achivar could catch the wind and sail efficiently across the ice, like the dyella and the Slanderscree, and dozens of other ice dwellers.
The icerigger plowed into the herd without running over a single member of the group. Even the youngsters spun and turned with incredible agility, their massed spines flashing as they caught the sun. They had large, brilliantly intense red eyes, tiny heads that hugged neckless bodies, and broad flat feet that had evolved into flat, slick pads. The dyella raised its long rills to catch the maximum amount of available wind and tried to cut the herd off, to steal the wind from their spines much as ancient seagoing men-of-war tried to capture the wind from an enemy sailing ship in order to deny it speed and maneuverability. The tactics of consumption instead of the strategy of war, Ethan reflected.
The dyella was having a hard time. The achivar were as fast and much more agile. September joined Ethan in viewing the spectacle.
“Ice-skating porcupines,” he grunted, glancing at Ta-hoding as the captain yelled a casual command to his helmsman, “Are those spines as sharp as they look?”
“Every bit of that,” Ta-hoding replied. “Their small wind-catchers notwithstanding. The trick in hunting achivar is to surprise them when they are resting or feeding and their spines are relaxed.”
“Moware asked me to come up here.” September gestured toward the bow. “They’d like to capture a specimen to take back to Brass Monkey. I tried to tell him and the others you wouldn’t go for it.”
“These achivar are neither asleep nor feeding, and if we were to come to a stop the dyella might decide spineless Tran are more agreeable prey than speedy, spiny achivar. Therefore we will not stop. You must convey my apologies to your scholars.”
“Not me. I agree with you completely.”
Ethan stepped away from the railing. “I’ll tell ’em. They’re the ones who are in a hurry to get to the southern continent. I’ll remind them that you’re only doing as they requested.” Ta-hoding nodded his approval.
As the icerigger left the achivar herd and its tormenting dyella behind, Moware fumed but had to be content with the images and sounds his recorder had captured. Much later the frustrated xenologist drew Ethan and Skua aside. “Who’s paying for this trip?”
September merely grinned and turned away to continue his surveillance of a line of distant granite teeth poking through the ice. “Ask that of Hunnar or Ta-hoding or any of the other noble Tran and you’ll have the chance to study how tight a U-turn this ship can execute.”
“Surely it would not destroy their scheduling for us to stop occasionally to gather specimens.”
“You’re the ones who wanted speed, remember? The Tran agreed to take you to the southern continent as fast as possible. That’s what they’re doing. You don’t alter plans in midjourney. It’s not their way. These people have put off seeing their friends and loved ones for another few months to help you out. Be satisfied that you’re on this ship at all. Don’t push your luck with the Tran. They have short tempers and long memories. Irritate them now and you’ll have the devil’s own time getting them to help you in the future.”
Moware mulled over September’s advice. “If you say so—but I’m not happy about this.”
“Nobody said you had to be happy.”
The xenologist bridled slightly but his position was weak and September knew it. His colleagues might sympathize but they wouldn’t risk the good will of the Tran to advance his argument. The meteorologists needed to get to the southern continent, and the geo people like Jacalan and Blanchard had nothing at all to study out on the ice. They weren’t about to insist on detours and unscheduled field trips.
The next day they entered the first extensive pika-pina field and no more was heard from Moware as he embarked on a detailed study of the vast reservoir of flora. He was too busy recording the new wonder to argue about stopping. All he had to do to collect a week’s worth of specimens was drag a collecting net alongside the speeding icerigger for ten minutes.
Ta-hoding guided the ship through the endless field of greenery, avoiding the larger, thicker stands of pika-pedan. The icerigger’s metal skates sliced cleanly through the water-filled greenery, leaving pulp, other organic detritus, and new shoots already climbing in its wake.
“Noticed something different here lately, young feller-me-lad?” September joined Ethan in staring over the bow sprit.
“That’s an open question.” Ethan idly checked the thermometer built into the wrist of his survival suit. It was a brisk ten below that morning. Not bad considering that just before sunrise the reading had fallen to minus sixty.
“It’s our good friend Williams.”
“What about him?” Ethan stared up at September curiously from behind his survival suit’s visor.
The giant nodded toward the four scientists clustered together amidships. Ethan recognized Williams immediately by the teacher’s battered survival suit, so different in appearance from the shiny unmarred attire of his companions.
“That’s our friend Hwang he’s hanging around with.”
“So? They’re observing together. I’m not surprised. After over a year of having to try to make conversation with a couple of simpletons like you and me, I’d expect him to spend as much time as possible with people of a similar mental bent.”
“Been doing nothing but observing together. Ever since we left Arsudun.”
“You wouldn’t be insinuating that there might be something more than a professional relationship developing between them, now would you?”
“Oh, no, not me, not me, lad.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Ethan watched as Williams put his faceplate close to Hwang’s. Natural enough, given the limited range of the suits’ speaking membranes. “I’m not sure our friend Hwang is capable of anything more than that.”
“Don’t let her attitude fool you, feller-me-lad. Even steel can smolder, given the right conditions.”
“Sorry. I just can’t think of our Milliken as a right condition.”
“Can’t you now? Adjust your perspective, feller-me-lad. Among that lot Milliken’s stature is considerable, and I ain’t referring to his size. He’s seen stuff these stay-at-homes can only dream about—and lives to tell about it. And he’s a bona fide hero to the Tran. Don’t think our calculating friends miss things like that. Someone like himself comes marching into Brass Monkey on a ship of his own design, crewed by Tran he’s helped to make allies of, and the status of a fancy degree goes right down the chute. Can’t you see how someone like Hwang could be taken with a figure like that?” There was definite merriment in September’s voice.