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What developed, as Igwanda had predicted, was a second day of virtually no predatory activity. Two flying creatures stooped on small ground animals, one successfully and one not, but other than that and a brief territorial display between two of the hexapods the day was a bucolic repetition of the previous one.
The scientists spent most of it again collecting specimens. Observing closely, both Komosaki and Heisinger were able to collect ground plants onto which some of the grazers and dripped their "sweat," and also found several additional "spit-back" objects—stones, clods of compacted soil and the like. Heisinger was still grumpy that evening about the lack of any insect-sized specimens, but had to concede that if Eden did harbor such creatures they were either rare or well-concealed in at least the immediate vicinity. He was much more satisfied with a personal triumph: his fortuitous discovery of the almost completely intact cadaver of a creature about the size of a woodchuck which he stored immediately in the freezer for later dissection.
It was in the morning of their third and final day on the surface that events took a sharply different turn.
The grazers had again turned out early for their repast and scarcely looked up as the humans emerged to finish out their sample collection. But about mid-morning Igwanda saw first one, then another, then virtually all, abruptly raise their heads. Within seconds they had left the field completely empty, moving in something short of a stampede but a great deal faster than their usual stroll.
He reacted without hesitation, using his communicator to urgently call for the entire party to return to the lander; whatever had alarmed the locals, he wanted no part of it. As he began to repeat his call his ears picked up the sound that had apparently alerted the grazers, a very faint and high-pitched keening in the distance.
Perhaps encouraged by the stress in his voice, the scientists mostly responded with commendable promptness, though the colonel observed van Damm having to chivvy a small party she'd shepherded into the woods who were somewhat dragging their feet. By the time he had finished loading his charges on board the keening had grown very much louder; something was coming toward them and, from the ululation, in fairly large numbers.
Whatever was coming, he judged it would be upon them before they could finish loading and lift off; and the lander itself had no armament. It seemed highly unlikely that this world offered anything that could harm the ship, but he was still more confident that it had nothing capable of withstanding the weaponry he and his troops carried. Instead of boarding he deployed them quickly on the ground in a close defensive formation, while he himself backed halfway up the ramp to gain a better vantage.
He was still moving when two figures burst out of the surrounding brush. To his astonishment they looked identical to the aliens he had seen on the Argo record, and for a brief instant he thought they might be the vanguard of a charge against the lander. But before he could begin to act on that thought one cast an obviously fearful glance behind it, and he realized they were in panicked flight from something; and their stumbling exhaustion told him the something was gaining.
Igwanda had not found Eden's life-forms especially prepossessing, but what appeared only a few meters behind the two aliens was actually quite handsome in a functional sort of way. No larger than a medium-size dog, it had four sturdy legs obviously designed by nature for endurance rather than speed, and its powerful torso and head moved with rhythmic purpose as it loped easily along. Especially noticeable were the vicious looking teeth, or whatever passed for teeth on Eden, that it bared as it gave voice to its high-pitched howl. When perhaps two dozen or more of its fellows emerged closely behind, also in full voice, he realized he was looking at the local version of a hunting pack.
It would be on the two frightened natives quickly, he realized; they might not even make it across the field. "Instructions, Dr. Heisinger," he snapped over the communicator. "Help or let it happen? Quickly, or it will be too late," he added after a momentary silence.
"Protect them," came the response. "But if you can avoid it, try not to kill."
The colonel was already in action before Heisinger completed the second sentence, and would have ignored it anyway. Such predators no longer lived in the wild on Earth in sufficient concentration to form significant packs, but he had viewed and read the historic records of such as American timberwolves, Australian dingoes, the sub-Asian dhole and others who patiently ran their quarry into the ground before dispatching it, and was well aware that it would require a great deal more than merely yelling "boo" to disperse a pack that was already sensing the kill. Four leaders were slightly separated from the rest, and within as many seconds he had dropped each with his laser.
In his peripheral vision he registered that one of the fleeing aliens had stumbled and that, turning to help it, the other had a full view of what was happening. But he held his attention on the remainder of the pack. With their leaders dead before their eyes they had abruptly come to a halt and were milling around in confusion. One of the outliers fixed its eyes on the lander and opened its mouth for another howl; he shot it dead before a sound could emerge. It took two more accurately aimed shots before the rest finally recognized their peril and began scattering quickly back the way they had come.
He gave the two aliens a quick glance and saw both were looking at him with unfathomably blank expressions. Then the airlock behind him began to cycle, and he spun in irritation. Damned civilians will not obey orders, he thought. I did not give them leave to come out yet. He shrugged—any danger was over—but by the time he turned back the aliens had vanished.
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