“Are you thinking about changing the plan?” Morrow sounded both surprised and perhaps a bit anxious, but then, despite his confident exterior and reputation for brokering big deals, he was much more of a creature of habit than Gwen. He liked to make a plan then stick with it, and her tendency to improvise made him nervous on occasion.
“No,” she reassured him. “I am thinking about how best to apply it, though. And the more I look at the imagery, the less confident I am of our being able to convince people treecats aren’t really sentient.”
“Then why are we sending all those anthropologists to Sphinx?” Morrow demanded, and grimaced. “It’s costing a pretty penny just to get them out here, Gwen. And even with your backing through the Foundation, I burned more favors with the Interior Ministry than I like to think about getting Vásquez to sign off on making Hobard give them access right along with Whitaker! If he hadn’t messed up so badly during the forest fires, I don’t think she would’ve overruled Hobard, no matter how we’d approached her.”
“Oh, stop hugging your wallet, Ozzie!” Gwen shook her head again. “Our people are going to argue against admitting sentience as long as they can, and even if Hobard doesn’t buy into it, it’ll create plenty of confusion in the minds of people who aren’t anthropologists. In the end, it doesn’t really matter what the scientists decide, now does it? What matters is what Parliament decides, and that means we have to convince a bunch of voters who probably don’t even know what ‘sentient’ means that the ’cats are only cute, cuddly woodland creatures.”
“But you said—”
“I said it was going to be harder, not that I thought it was going to be impossible. Besides, that was never more than our first line of defense. You just be sure your pet anthropologists’ reports underline these things’ inability to truly understand the implications of modern technology or the real impact human settlements are going to have on them. We deny their sentience as long as we can, and when we finally admit it, we argue that the reason it took us so long to realize the truth is because they’re so different from human beings. And with the Foundation sponsoring their research, it’ll be easy to tell everyone how concerned we are about their well-being. How much we want to protect them from the corrupting influence of human contact. After all, think how other aboriginal cultures have been scarred and destroyed by contact with more advanced societies!”
He looked at her, eyes narrowing, and then began to nod slowly.
* * *
Stephanie finished the newly arrived message from Anders, freezing the final frame on her viewscreen so she could enjoy the warmth of his parting smile while she thought about the news. More xeno-anthropologists! She was happy for Anders that his dad had returned, and she was ecstatic at the thought that the Whitaker expedition’s time on Sphinx had actually been extended, rather than cut short. But she’d learned to know the members of Doctor Whitaker’s team, and she didn’t know any of these newcomers Anders was talking about. She wished she could be there to see them firsthand—and to have Lionheart check them out.
“We can’t be there, though. But I wonder…” An impish grin lit her face, and she quickly set herself to record.
“Anders…I’m so glad you’re enjoying the scavenger hunt. Thanks for telling me about this new group of xeno-anthropologists. I never thought I’d say this, but I agree with your dad, and I wish Lionheart and I could be there to check them out. Since we can’t, though, I’ve got an idea. How about Jessica and Valiant?
“Jessica’s good with people—better than I am, really. She’s been so many places. I think Valiant is a bit more shy about strangers than Lionheart, but he’s a wise sort. I think he’d be able to spot a blackhole like Bolgeo right off. Then you and Jess and all would know who to keep an eye on.
“I’m going to message Jess right away and see what she thinks. If she’s for it, then I’m sure something can be set up.”
Her voice softened. “I really, really wish I could be there—and not just to check out these new arrivals. I can’t believe it’s only been three days…Three months seem like an eternity.” She blew him a kiss. “Miss you!”
* * *
The weather wasn’t as cooperative as the human elements, so it wasn’t until a few days after Anders’ birthday that the group assembled on the top of a cliff that offered a good place to park Jessica’s car and Chet’s truck. Unlike traditional hang-gliders, the modern glider included a counter-grav unit that made the blind leaps into the air that belonged to the traditional sport unnecessary. A few of the stronger fliers—Karl and Toby among them—had experimented with jumping off cliffs anyway, but Anders was just as glad to let his counter-grav carry him up to where he could find a strong thermal.
As he shrugged into his glider, Anders noticed Valiant reaching up to accept a neat little shoulder bag from Jessica. The contents clinked slightly as the treecat slung the strap over one shoulder, then over his chest, positioning it so that it rested comfortably between his upper and middle sets of limbs. Then the ’cat wandered off toward a cluster of thick, shrubby trees that—despite showing evidence of having been bent by the winds—were evidently thriving.
“Dr. Richard helped adapt my glider so Valiant could ride with me like Lionheart does with Stephanie,” Jessica explained, “but he’s not as keen on flying as Lionheart. I get the impression that Lionheart’s a bit of a daredevil.”
“Like Stephanie,” Christine chuckled, settling her helmet over her indigo crest. “Where’s Valiant off to?”
“Collecting plants,” Jessica said. “Dr.Marjorie set him up with little bags that will protect his samples. She figured that was a good compromise that let her encourage him while not steering him. Valiant has gardens at our place, in the Harrington greenhouses, and back with his clan.”
Very much the anthropologist’s son, Anders asked, “Does Valiant seem to be doing any sort of systematic gardening or is he just sticking things in at random?”
“Systematic,” Jessica answered promptly, “although what his system is, I can’t say. We can’t talk, remember. The best I can do is observe, but it sure looks to me as if he’s trying out the same plants in different locations. His clan lives where the soil is very moist compared to our garden.”
“I remember.” Anders grinned. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget. It’s interesting that Valiant’s clan moved back into that territory after the fires burned them out of their new home. My dad had the impression that they’d moved in the first place because the area near the bog was fished out or hunted out or something.”
“Maybe,” Jessica agreed. “But they’re back—despite having to put up with a swamp siren for a neighbor.”
“I wonder,” Anders continued thinking aloud as he went through his preflight check, “if they didn’t have a lot of choice. Maybe treecats are territorial.”
“Maybe,” Jessica agreed again. She might have said more, but at that moment, Chet cut in.
“Hey, are we going to fly and find Anders’ prezzie, or are we going to yack?”
“Fly,” Anders replied. “Let’s go prezzie hunting.”
The small flock of gliders rose on counter-grav, gleaming in the sun, and from his newly elevated perch, Anders checked his uni-link for the coordinates he and Stephanie had filed when they had first discovered the purple moths.
“There,” he murmured to himself. “Over by those rocks, then over to the right…Uh-oh.”
He spoke into his uni-link. “Guys, we’ve got a problem.”