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precipitously.”
    Haviti grinned. “Maybe they were just surprised to see a big bug talking back to them. If you remember your history, something of the same reaction afflicted my kind when we first encountered your species.”
    “The shock was no less among my kind when it finally had to be acknowledged that stinky soft-bodied creatures with internal skeletons had actually developed intelligence.” Pivoting on four trulegs, he looked back at the forest. “Quite an eventful afternoon.” Tilting back his head, he considered the alien sky. “We should be getting back.”
    Removing a collecting net of fine mesh from her backpack, Haviti headed for the water. “Not until I’ve taken some samples of aquatic life-forms. If the terrestrial fauna is any indication, they should be plentiful and fascinating.” Reaching the water’s edge and wading out into the cool liquid until it was halfway up to her knees, she paused to look back. “Aren’t you going to help?”
    “Very funny.” Extracting a soil sifter from his own pack, Valnadireb commenced a search for a suitable patch of ground from which to take samples. “I’ll restrict my efforts to sensibly dry land, thank you.”
    As they worked, this or that new discovery would occasion a cry of delight from Haviti or a whistle of pleasure from her colleague. Even as they labored to satisfy their intellectual needs, however, they would periodically engage safety and security equipment to scan the looming wall of green and orange forest.
    They were focused on their science, but they were not stupid. Wielded skillfully and with strength, a rock on a stick could end a life as effectively as the most sophisticated pistol.
             
    Wiping perspiration from his forehead as he considered the rapidly darkening sky, Boylan struggled to contain his irritation. Here he and Araza and the automatics had worked their tails off to get the camp in some kind of shape for the science team and they did not even have the courtesy to return on time. Was it going to be like this every day they went out into the field? he wondered. It could not be allowed. Words would have to be spoken. As commander of the expedition both on board and off the ship, security was ultimately his responsibility.
    He knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Having worked with scientists before, he was aware that when they were working in the field they believed that every day consisted of twice twenty-four hours—irrespective of the rate of revolution of the particular planet they happened to be on at the time. He understood, even if he did not sympathize, with their desire to accomplish as much as possible in the limited time allotted to an expedition. But having seen on one unfortunate occasion that death had a way of putting a serious crimp in one’s research, he knew he would have to be steadfast. Everyone back in camp at the prearranged time and no night work until they had a much better idea of their surroundings and any potential hazards.
    Not that the prescribed hourly report-backs had revealed anything other than excitement at each new discovery. At least his current quartet of highly intelligent but frequently preoccupied charges had had the courtesy to call in on schedule. Wholly engaged in supervising the camp’s fitting-out, he’d had no time to listen to the details, replete as they were with often incomprehensible scientific jargon. It was enough for him to know that no one had suddenly dropped dead or been consumed by some fascinating new local predator.
    Tomorrow would be better, he told himself. With the camp now complete except for the final fill-ins and last adjustments, there would be time for occasional relaxation and the enjoyment of small luxuries. He would lecture them sternly on the importance of returning to the camp on time. With luck he would not have to mention it again.
    Movement off to his left drew his attention. “Salvador—that type of processor is for specimen analysis.