Genellan: Planetfall

"Good morning, Lieutenant," MacArthur shouted. "You looked mighty comfortable out there." Field glasses dangled from his neck.

Buccari was impatient with Sha

"It must be something about this side of the river that makes everyone forget the work they're supposed to be doing," she answered.

"Ah, Lieutenant," MacArthur rebutted mildly. "We've been working hard over here, too. But you're right. We need the horses across the river."

That the horses were sufficiently docile to transport over water was amazing in itself. The first mare captured had been nervous and frightened; none of the men could calm her enough to start training. She had refused to eat or drink, and she had thrashed and struggled so much that MacArthur worried for her health—almost to the point of setting her free. However, another horse—a stallion—was caught using the same tactics employed to capture the mare. When the newly captured horse was put in the paddock with the first animal, both animals calmed down, taking food and water from the humans as if they had always done so.

MacArthur dared to mount the mare. Surprisingly, the animal reacted mildly to the presence of a human being on its back. The horse bucked and pranced about a bit, but then it just stood there, accepting the human's right to the superior position. Within another week both horses were answering basic riding commands. The stable on the north side of the river was expanded, and two more horses were captured. MacArthur, Sha

A shrill whistle sounded overhead. Buccari looked skyward. Two cliff dwellers, membranes folded to their backs, descended in a panic. High in the deep blue heavens, two great eagles soared lazily in the bright sunlight. But lower! A third eagle had folded its wings and was plummeting from the skies in pursuit of the hunters!

Buccari leapt to her feet. The diving eagle grew larger, its spreading talons swinging downward—right for them. Reflexively, she pushed Goldberg and Honey over the side and into the deep, cold water, and dove in after. Tatum, Wilson, and Schmidt followed in quick succession, splashing noisily into the relative security of the river, clinging close to the protective overhang of the raft. Only Fenstermacher remained on deck. The resolute raft captain seized a fending pole and wielded it like a lance.

The hunters extended their wings and pulled up from their headlong dives, with the eagle closing rapidly. Buccari brushed river water from her eyes and looked up at MacArthur. The Marine was on his feet, assault rifle aimed skyward. The hunters leveled out above the raft and shot past MacArthur' s position, gliding with a rush of wind into the narrow confines of the trees, too restricted for the eagle to follow. The eagle flared above Fenstermacher' s head, spreading its wings to an unbelievable span, throwing a mantle of darkness over the shoreline. Its yellow eyes focused on Fenstermacher, glowing with atavistic hate, but also a glint of fear.

Buccari winced, waiting for the inevitable explosion from the rifle, but MacArthur stood steady, staring through his sights. He had but to pull the trigger and the eagle would be a

"Get out of here, baby," she whispered. And it was gone, the swishing of its wings diminishing to silence.

"I didn't hear anyone sound swim call!" Fenstermacher yelled, standing at the edge of the raft, glaring ferociously at the people treading water. He jumped back from a mouthful of river spit in his direction. Honey howled mightily.

"About time you got here, Fenstermacher!" MacArthur shouted, setting the rifle on the ground. "We got work to do. Get that raft secured and let's get the ramp up."

"Up yours, Mac!" the feisty boatswain shouted. "I'm early, and you know it. And don't go yelling at me. I'm officially a hero. I chased that buzzard away while these fishies were flopping around in the water." He turned back and bent over the side. "Gu

Honey bawled as the dripping swimmers pulled themselves from the river. Chastain and Fenstermacher brought the raft broadside to the bank and secured it fore and aft. Buccari, soaking wet, started up the path winding toward MacArthur' s position. Goldberg gradually soothed Honey to a hiccoughing calm as the members of the foraging party sat on the river rocks, letting the dappling sunlight warm their wet bodies. Insults flew fast and furious, and soon everyone was laughing too hard to speak.

As Buccari arrived at MacArthur' s vantage point, X.O. and Tonto hopped from the woods. The hunters craned their necks as they waddled from beneath the tree cover, searching the skies. Satisfied that the threat had disappeared, they hopped up on boulders and watched the humans with great interest. MacArthur gave them hand signs that meant, "Death close," and pointed to the sky. The cliff dwellers chirped animatedly, and X.O. signed back, "Death always close."

The hunters turned and bowed to Buccari. The little creatures treated MacArthur and Buccari differently from other humans, showing each of them peculiar forms of respect. To Buccari they were formal and deferential; whenever she moved or spoke they took note and adjusted to her position as if she were a local sun and they were her planets. To MacArthur they demonstrated a jolly camaraderie, and they invariably followed him whenever they were around. It was with MacArthur and, to a lesser degree, Buccari that they attempted to communicate. To all other humans they were remarkably indifferent.

"A bunch of clowns," MacArthur said, looking down on the dripping hilarity.

"Laughter's great," Buccari commented, removing her dripping pistol belt and hanging it on a convenient branch. "I don't hear you laughing," he said.

She looked up without humor. "I have other things on my mind, Corporal. Like getting you guys back on the other side to do some work."

"Okay, okay," he said. "Point's made! But we're the least of your worries. These horses are going to make a big difference."

Buccari felt his steady look and her eyes were drawn to his. She lowered her gaze to the river.

"Hey, Chief! Move everyone down the bank," MacArthur shouted. "The fewer distractions the better."

Wilson waved, and the foraging patrol made their way upriver.

Buccari turned from the river and, once again, found herself staring into MacArthur' s gray eyes. Neither spoke. The spell was broken by the chirping of the cliff dwellers; the alert creatures gawked curiously into the woods. Buccari detected the sounds of approaching animals. Soon Sha

"We're waiting, Winfried," MacArthur sang out. "How're you doing?"

"Ready here!" Fenstermacher shouted back. He and Chastain brought the raft against the bank and positioned the sturdy ramp. The height and steepness of the bank made the incline of the gangplank negligible.

"Okay, Terry. Let's do it!" MacArthur grabbed the reins of one of the horses, leading it down the last section of steep path. O'Toole followed leading a second horse, leaving Sha