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Episode 4, Arrival © C. J. Hoare 2006.
All rights reserved.


Gisel set down her pack and the portable analyzer on some long grass while the biologists waded out into the swamp. Helen Svambini, one of the field techs, wielded a measuring rod and a sample tool, measuring water depth and turbidity. Looked like a messy job, Gisel grinned at her sympathetically as she lifted a leg covered with black mud and bits of plants. Helen shrugged. The two tree specialists, both young field techs, paced about impatiently and stared at the woodlands in the distance. "All deciduous," Mort said, shielding his eyes.

"How many species? Can't tell from here," Alan, who Gisel didn't like, answered with a nod. "I hope to hell we get over there soon."

"Soon enough," Henrik Matah said, turning to them abruptly. "When these people are nearly finished we'll walk on."

Gisel stayed out of it. But it'd be good to get into the trees; the air around this place stank and small insects kept trying to fly into her eyes. She'd forgotten how much she hated bugs after six months in space.

The radios crackled. "M'Tov to Matah. Routine check."

"Good here, Elias. We're at our first ground truthing site."

Gisel keyed her transmit. "Did we bring any bug spray, Colonel? I'm being eaten alive here."

A minute passed before M'Tov answered. "I don't think Iskander carries any. Either you get used to them or you stay aboard, young lady."

She hated that tone of his. "What if they're carrying something?"

His answer snapped back a lot quicker. "I'll check with medical and chemical engineering when we get back."

Alan came up behind her and swatted around her head. "Look out, Gisel. This one is big enough to carry you off."

She pushed him away, with more force than he expected by the way he screwed up his face. "Better you stick to your trees – they're more your speed."

"Wicked one!" Mort said with a grin. "I don't think she wants to make friends, Alan."

Being the youngest woman on the Iskander made her the object of all the young men's attentions – and they were all ages too old for her.

She walked part way around the swamp while the team worked, she could have done the video recording for her father while she was waiting. Maybe she should take that chore from him, she could see he was already regretting bringing her. A movement under a grove of trees in the middle distance caught her eye. Greyish white animals started out into the meadow, lowering their heads to munch grass as they walked. What the heck were they? She'd seen pictures of them somewhere.

It wasn't until a boy and a dog followed them into the open that she remembered. The pole he carried – it was called a crook. That made him a . . . shepherd. Yes, that was it. He ambled on into the meadow, obviously without noticing them.

The dog looked up and barked.

The shepherd boy stopped and she could see his mouth fall open. The Iskander team probably looked outlandish to him, dressed in shiny, repellant coveralls, while he wore a dull brown smock over knee length breeches and hose. Gisel waved; maybe he wouldn't feel threatened by her.

He started to back away, the dog running forward growling. The animals . . . sheep . . . took alarm from the reactions. They began to scatter.

Gisel waved again. "Hey. Come on over. We mean no harm."

The boy turned and ran. The sheep ran off in several directions while the dog ran to and fro, barking.

"Gisel! Come away. Get back over here." Her father's voice.

She turned to them, all pausing in their tasks to watch the commotion. "He's only a boy. Can't do any harm."

"Dammit! Come back over here. You don't know that – he could be contagious."

She shook her head, but turned to trudge back around the swamp. She managed one look over her shoulder as the shepherd boy vanished into the trees. Most of the sheep had ceased running and grazed this way and that. Contagious? How the hell were they going to meet anyone then?

She was just about to rejoin the team when she heard her father call M'Tov to report the sighting. The radio on her belt blipped in and out as M'Tov answered so she unclipped it and held it up in the air.

"We could have a problem here, Henrik," she heard M'Tov say. "Heard a sound like a trumpet coming from the direction of that castle."

"What do you think it meant?"

"If that castle is the local authority, it likely means they're aware of our landing and are calling their men together. You may need to carry out your tasks much faster than we'd planned. Until we know what these folks are capable of, we had best err on the side of caution."

"Do you want me to return to the Intruder?"

Gisel couldn't stay silent any longer. "Gee, Father. One shepherd boy and we're gonna run and hide? He's already done that."

"Be quiet, Gisel."

"I don't think we want to abort the mission," M'Tov said, "but I'm going to cut ours short. We've found one fellow in the village, and we're taking him with us."

"Very well," Henrik said. "I'll send my arborists on ahead. Send me your guards when you get back to Intruder."

"I'll come myself. I'll leave my team working near the Intruder."

Gisel itched to tell him to go up to the castle and knock on the door, but she knew it wasn't worth pissing him off. What had M'Tov expected? The Intruder landing had alarmed everyone within miles.

Her father spoke with her two tree buddies when she rejoined the group. "You carry on ahead and start your work. Don't get out of sight. Gisel, I want you to go with them as far as the trees and stay where you can see us as well as Mort and Alan."

Good, the alarm had speeded things nicely. "Right."

"When the biologists have finished here we will come and join you. Leave the portable analyzer here for them."

Alan hoisted a long tool from his shoulder. "You can carry this instead."

She grabbed it before it hit her in the face; it had a large snipper end and its weight momentarily pulled her off balance. "What is it?"

"Extending clippers and grab, for collecting samples off high branches."

"Geez. Leave it with me. I'll go shear some sheep while I wait for you."

Her father stared at her a moment before shaking his head and turning away.

The two men set out at once, so by the time Gisel had reclaimed her pack from where she'd left it she had to run to catch up to them. Only then did she remember about offering to do the video recording. Too late now, she wasn't going to run back.

The next trees were some distance from those the shepherd boy had vanished into, although as she walked it seemed as if all the clumps of trees she'd seen from further off were part of a single large wood. The terrain was more rolling than she'd first thought. She might have to climb a tree if she was going to be able to see her father from the edge. Bet that would be wrong, too.

"What is this tree identification going to tell us?" she asked as she caught up to them.

"Culture identity will give us usage," Mort said. "Cutting areas will indicate how much, from which we can estimate the size of the population that uses them."

"Oh. Why not find somebody to ask?"

"How can we do that?" Alan snapped, "if they all run away."

"I bet they haven't all run away. I bet the trumpet call means they're getting ready to come and investigate us."

The two men exchanged glances and shook their heads. "Children can make everything sound so simple."

"They should have put you in charge, Gisel," Mort said with a grin.

Gisel stopped. "M'Tov as much as said that – it's not my idea."

"Whatever." Alan took longer strides "Hurry up. We'll get nothing done if we don't step out. M'Tov is already spooked."

"Hey," Mort wheezed. "Not so fast. I haven't lived in one G for a year."

"Told you to come to the gym," Gisel said, running to catch up again. "I could have got you into shape."

Alan glanced back over his shoulder. "Gisel. Just carry your goddamned load and shut up. If we need your advice, I'll ask for it."