Bradley, Marion Zimmer - Darkover - Landfall

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Darkover Landfall

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: The songs quoted in the text from the New Hebrides Commune are all

from the Songs of the Hebrides, collected by Marjorie Kennedy-Fraser and published 1909, 1922,

by Boosey and Hawker. The Seagull of the Land-Under-Waves, English words by Mrs. Kennedy-

Fraser, from the Gaelic of Kenneth MacLeod. Caristlona, words traditional, English by Kenneth

MacLeod. The Fairy's Love Song, English words by James Hogg (adapted). The Mull-Fisher's

Song, English words by Marjorie Kennedy-Fraser. The Coolies of Rum, English words by Elfrida

Rivers, by special permission.

First Printing, December, 1972

Chapter

ONE

The landing gear was almost the least of their worries; but it made a serious problem in

getting in and out. The great starship lay tilted at a forty-five degree angle with the exit ladders

and chutes coming nowhere near the ground, and the doors going nowhere. All the damage

hadn't been assessed yet--not nearly--but they estimated that roughly half the crew's quarters

and three-fourths of the passenger sections were uninhabitable.

Already half a dozen small rough shelters, as well as the tent like field hospital, had been

hastily thrown up in the great clearing. They'd been made, mostly out of plastic sheeting and logs

from the resinous local trees, which had been cut with buzz-saws and timbering equipment from

the supply materials for the colonists. All this had taken place over Captain Leicester's serious

protests; he had yielded only to a technicality. His orders were absolute when the ship was in

space; on a planet the Colony Expedition Force was in charge.

The fact that it wasn't the right planet was a technicality that no one had felt able to

tackle... yet.

It was, reflected Rafael MacAran as he stood on the low peak above the crashed

spaceship, a beautiful planet. That Is, what they could see of it, which wasn't all that much. The

gravity was a little less than Earth's, and the oxygen content a little higher, which itself meant a

certain feeling of web-being and euphoria for anyone born and brought up on Earth. No one

reared on Earth in the twenty-first century, lie Rafael MacAran, had ever smelled arch sweet and

resinous air, or seen faraway hdlg through such a clean bright morning.

The hills and the distant mountains rose amend them in an apparently endless

panorama, fold beyond fold, gradually losing color with distance, turning first dim green, then

dimmer blue, and finally to dimmest violet and purple. The great sun was deep red, the color of

spilt blood; and that morning they had seen the four moons, like great multicolored jewels,

hanging off the horns of the distant mountains.

MacAran set his pack down, pulled out the transit and began to set up its tripod legs. He

bent to adjust the instrument, wiping sweat from his forehead. God, how hot it seemed after the

brutal ice-cold of last night and the sudden snow that had swept from the mountain range so

swiftly they had barely had time to take shelter! And now the snow lay in melting runnels as he

pulled off his nylon parka and mopped his brow.

He straightened up, looking around for convenient horizons. He already knew, thanks to

the new-model altimeter which could compensate for different gravity strengths, that they were

about a thousand feet above sea level--or what would be sea level if there were any seas on this

planet which they couldn't yet be sure of. In the stress and dangers of the crash-landing no one

except the Third Officer had gotten a clear look at the planet from space, and she had died twenty

minutes after impact while they were still digging bodies out of the wreckage of the bridge.

They knew that there were three planets in this system: one an oversized, frozen-

methane giant, the other a small barren rock, more moon than planet except for its solitary orbit,

and this one. They knew that this one was what Earth Expeditionary Forces called a Class M

planet --roughly Earth-type and probably habitable. And now they knew they were on it. That was

just about all they knew about it, except what they had discovered in the last seventy-two hours.

The red sun, the four moons, the extremes of temperature, the mountains all had been

discovered in the frantic intervals of digging out and identifying the dead, setting up a hasty field

hospital and drafting every able-bodied person to care for the injured, bury the dead, and set up

hasty shelters while the ship was still inhabitable.

Rafael MacAran started pulling his surveying instruments from his pack but he didn't

attend to them. He had needed this brief interval alone more than he had realized; a little time to

recover from the repeated and terrible shocks of the last few hours-the crash, and a concussion

which would have put him into a hospital on crowded, medically hypersensitive Earth. Here the

medical officer, harried from worse injuries, tested his reflexes briefly, handed him some

headache pills, and went on to the seriously hurt and the dying. His head still felt like an

oversized toothache although the visual blurring had cleared up after the first night's deep. The

next day he had been drafted, with all the other able-bodied men not on the medical staff or the

engineering crews in the ship, to dig mass graves for the dead. And then there had been the

mind-shaking shock of finding Jenny among them.

Jenny. He had envisioned her safe and well, too busy at her own job to hunt him up and

reassure him. Then among the mangled dead, the unmistakable silver-bright hair of his only

sister. There hadn't even been time for tears. There were too many dead. He did the only thing he

could do. He reported to Camilla Del Rey, deputizing for Captain Leicester on the identity detail,

that the name of Jenny MacAran should be transferred from the lists of unlocated survivors to the

list of definitely identified dead.

Camilla's only comment had been a terse, quiet `Thank you, MacAran.' There was no

time for sympathy, no time for mourning or even humane expressions of kindness. And yet Jenny

had been Camilla's close friend, she'd really loved that damned Del Rey girl like a sister--just

why, Rafael had never known, but Jenny had, and there must have been some reason. He

realized somewhere below the surface, that he had hoped Camilla would shed for Jenny the tears

he could not manage to weep. Someone ought to cry for Jenny, and he couldn't. Not yet.

He turned his eyes on his instruments again. If they had known their definite latitude on

the planet it would have been easier, but the height of the sun above the horizon would give them

some rough idea.

Below him in a great bowl of land at least five miles across filled with low brushwood and

scrubby trees, the crashed spaceship lay. Rafael, looking at it from this distance, felt a strange

sinking feeling Captain Leicester was supposed to be working with the crew to assess the

damage and estimate the time needed to make repairs. Rafael knew nothing about the workings

of starships--his

own field was geology. But it didn't look to him as if that ship was ever going anywhere again.

Then he turned off the thought. That was for the engineering crews to say. They knew,

and he didn't. He'd seen some near-miracles done by engineering these days. At worst this would

be an uncomfortable interval of a few days or a couple of weeks, then they'd be on their way

again and a new habitable planet would be charted on the Expeditionary Forces star maps for

colonization. This one, despite the brutal cold at night, looked extremely habitable. Maybe they'd

even get to share some of the finder's fees, which would go to improve the Coronis Colony where

they'd be by then.

And they'd ail have something to talk about when they were Old Settlers in the Coronis

Colony, fifty or sixty years from now.

But if the ship never did get off the ground again... .

Impossible. This wasn't a charted planet, okayed for colonizing, and already opened up.

The Coronis Colony--Phi Coronis Delta--was already the site of a flourishing mining settlement.

There was a functioning spaceport and a crew of engineers and technicians had been working

there for ten years preparing the planet for settlement and studying its ecology. You couldn't set

down, raw and unhelped by technology, on a completely unknown world.

It couldn't be done.

Anyway, that was somebody else's job and he'd better do his own now. He made all the

observations he could, noted them in his pocket notebook, and packed up the tripod starting

down the hill again. He moved easily across the rock-strewn slope through the tough underbrush

and trees carrying his pack effortlessly in the light gravity. It was cleaner and easier than a hike

on Earth, and he cast a longing eye at the distant mountains. Maybe if their stay stretched out

more than a few days, he could be spared to take a brief climb into them. Rock samples and

some geological notations should be worth something to Earth Expeditionary and it would be a lot

better than a climbing trip on Earth, where every National Park from Yellowstone to Himalaya was

choked with jet-brought tourists three hundred days of the year.

He supposed it was only fair to give everyone a chance at the mountains, and certainly

the slidewalks and lifts installed to the top of Mount Rainier and Everest and Mount Whitney had

made it easier for old women and children to get up there and have a chance to see the scenery.

But still, MacAran thought longingly, to climb an actual wild mountain--one with no slidewalks and

not even a single chairlift! He'd climbed on Earth, but you felt silly struggling up a rock cliff when

teen-agers were soaring past you in chairlifts on their effortless way to the top and giggling at the

anachronist who wanted to do it the hard way!

Some of the nearer slopes were blackened with the scars of old forest fires, and he

estimated that the clearing where the ship lay was second-growth from some such fire a few

years before. Lucky the ship's fire-prevention systems had prevented any fire on impact-

otherwise if anyone had escaped alive, it might have been quite literally from a frying pan into a

raging forest fire. They'd have to be careful in the woods. Earth people had lost their old

woodcraft habits and might not be aware any more of what forest fires could do. He made a

mental note of it for his report.

As he re-entered the area of the crash, his brief euphoria vanished. Inside the field

hospital, through the semi-transparent plastic of the shelter material, he could see rows and rows

of unconscious or semiconscious bodies. A group of men were trimming breaches from tree

trunks and another small group was raising a dymaxion dome--the kind, based on triangular

bracings, which could be built in half a day. He began to wonder what the report of the

Engineering crew had been. He could see a crew of machinists crawling around on the crumpled

bracings of the starship but it didn't look as if much had been accomplished. In fact, it didn't look

hopeful for getting away very soon.

As he passed the hospital, a young man in a stained and crumpled Medic uniform came

out and called.

"Rafe! The Mate said report to the First Dome as soon as you get back--there's a meeting

there and they want you. I'm going over there myself for a Medic report --I'm the most senior man

they can spare." He moved slowly beside MacAran. He was slight and small, with light-brown hair

and a small curly brown beard, and he looked weary, as if he had had no sleep. MacAran asked,

hesitatingly, "How are things going in the hospital?"

"Well, no more deaths since midnight, and we've taken

four more people off critical. There evidently wasn't a leak in the atomics after all--that girl from

Comm checked out with no radiation burns; the vomiting was evidently just a bad blow in the

solar plexus. Thank God for small favors--if the atomics had sprung a leak, we'd probably all be

dead, and another planet contaminated."

Yeah, the M-AM drives have saved a lot of lives," MacAran said. "You look awfully tired,

Ewen--have you had any sleep at all?"

Ewen Ross shook his head. "No, but the Old Maws been generous with wakers, and I'm

still racing my motors. About midafternoon I'm probably going to crash and I won't wake up for

three days, but until then I'm holding on." He hesitated, looked shyly at his friend and said, "I

heard about Jenny, Rafe. Tough luck. So many of the girls back in that area made it out, I was

sure she was okay."

"So was I.' MacAran drew a deep breath and felt the clean air like a great weight on his

chest. "I haven't seen Heather--is she--"

"Heather's okay; they drafted her for nursing duty. Not a scratch on her. I understand

after this meeting they're going to post completed lists of the dead, the wounded and the

survivors. What were you doing, anyway? Del Rey told me you'd been sent out, but I didn't know

what for."

"Preliminary surveying," MacAran said. "We have no idea of our latitude, no idea of the

planet's size or mass, no idea about climate or seasons or what have you. But I've established

that we can't be too far off the equator, and--well I'll be making the report inside. Do we go right

in?"

"Yeah, in the First Dome." Half unconsciously, Ewen had spoken the words with capital

letters, and MacAran thought how human a trait it was to establish location and orientation at

once. Three days they had been here and already this first shelter was the First Dome, and the

field shelter for the wounded was the Hospital.

There were no seats inside the plastic dome, but some canvas groundsheets and empty

supply boxes had been set around and someone had brought a folding chair down for Captain

Leicester. Next to him, Camilla Del Rey sat on a box with a lapboard and notebook on her knees;

a tall, slender, dark-haired girl with a long, jagged cut across her cheek, mended with plastic clips.

She was wrapped in the warm fatigue uniform of a crewmember, but she had shucked the heavy

parka-like top and wore only a thin, clinging cotton shirt beneath it. MacAran shifted his eyes from

her, quickly--damn it, what was she up to, sitting around in what amounted to her underwear in

front of half the crew! At a time like this it wasn't decent... then, looking at the girl's drawn and

wounded face, he absolved her. She was hot--it was hot is here now--and she was, after all, on

duty, and had a right to be comfortable.

If anyone's out of line it's me, eyeing a girl like this at a time like this... .

Stress. That's all it is. There are too damn many things it's not safe to remember or think

about... .

Captain Leicester raised his gray head. He looks like death, MacAran thought, probably he hasn't

slept since the crash either. He asked the Del Rey girl, "Is that everyone?"

"I think so" the Captain said, "Ladies, gentlemen. We won't waste time on formalities, and

for the duration of this emergency the protocols of etiquette are suspended. Since my recording

officer is in the hospital, Officer Del Rey has kindly agreed to act as communications recorder for

this meeting. First of all; I have called you together, a representative from every group, so that

each of you can speak to your crews with authority about what is happening and we can minimize

the growth of rumors and uninformed gossip about our position. And anywhere that more than

twenty-five people are gathered, as I remember from my Pensacola days, rumors and gossip

start up. So let's get your information here, and not rely on what somebody told someone else's

best friend a few hours ago and what somebody else heard in the mess room--all right?

Engineering; let's begin with you. What's the situation with the drives?"

The Chief Engineer--his name was Patrick, but MacAran didn't know him personally--

stood up. He was a lanky gaunt man who resembled the folk hero Lincoln. "Bad." he said

laconically. "I'm not saying they can't be fixed, but the whole drive room is a shambles. Give us a

week to sort it out, and we can estimate how long it will take to fix the drives. Once the mess is

cleared away, I'd

say three weeks to a month. But I'd hate to have my year's salary depend on how close I came

inside that estimate."

Leicester said' "But it can be fixed? It's not hopelessly wrecked?"

"I wouldn't think so." Patrick said. "hell, it better not be! We may need to prospect for

fuels, but with the big converter that's no problem, any kind of hydrocarbon will do--even

cellulose. That's for energy-conversion in the life-support system, of course; the drive itself works

on anti-matter implosions." He became more technical, but before MacAran got too hopelessly

lost, Leicester stopped him.

"Save it, Chief. The important thing is, you're saying it can be fixed, preliminary estimated

lime three to six weeks. Officer Del Rey, what's the status on the bridge?"

"Mechanics are in there now, Captain, they're using cutting torches to get out the

crumpled metal. The computer cobsole is a mess, but the main banks are all right, and so is the

library system."

"What's the worst damage there?"

"We'll need new seats and straps all through the bridge cabin--the mechanics can handle

that. And of course we'll have to re-program our destination from the new location, but once we

find out exactly where we are, that should be simple enough from the Navigation systems."

"Then there's nothing hopeless there either?"

"It's honestly too early to say, Captain, but I shouldn't think so. Maybe it's wishful thinking,

but I haven't given up yet."

Captain Leicester said, "Well, just now things look about as bad as they can; I suspect

we're all tending to look on the grim side. Maybe that's good; anything better than the worst will

be a pleasant surprise. Where's Dr. Di Asturien? Medic?"

Ewen Ross stood up. `The Chief didn't feel he could leave, sir; he's got a crew working to

salvage all remaining medical supplies. He sent me. There have been no more deaths and all the

dead are buried. So far there is no sign of any unusual illness of unknown origin, but we are still

checking air and soil samples, and will continue to do so, for the purpose of classifying known

and unknown bacteria. Also--"

"Go on."

"The Chief wants orders issued about using only the assigned latrine areas, Captain. He

pointed out that we're carrying all sorts of bacteria in our own bodies which might damage the

local flora and fauna, and we can manage to disinfect the latrine areas fairly thoroughly--but we

should take precautions against infecting outside areas."

"A good point," Leicester said. "Ask someone to have the orders posted, Del Rey. And

put a security man to make sure everybody knows where the latrines are, and uses them. No

taking a leak in the woods just because you're there and there aren't any anti-littering laws:"

Camilla Del Rey said, "Suggestion, Captain. Ask the cooks to do the same with the

garbage, for a while, anyhow."

"Disinfect it? Good point. Lovat, what's the status on the food synthesizers,"

"Accessible and working, sir, at least temporarily. It might not be a bad idea, though, to

check indigenous food supplies and make sure we can eat the local fruits and roots if we have to.

If it goes on the blink--and it was never intended to run for long periods in planetary gravities--it

will be too late to start testing the local vegetation then." Judith Lovat, a small, sturdily built

woman in her late thirties with the green emblem of Life-support systems on her smock, glanced

toward the door of the dome. "The planet seems to be widely forested; there should be something

we can eat, with the oxygen-nitrogen system of this air. Chlorophyll and photosynthesis seem to

be pretty much the same on all M-type planets and the end product is usually some form of

carbohydrate with amino acids:"

"I'm going to put a botanist right on it," Captain Leicester said, "which brings me to you,

MacAran. Did you get any useful information from the hilltop?"

MacAran stood up. He said, "I would have gotten more if we'd landed in the plains--

assuming there are any on this planet--but I did get a few things. First, we're about a thousand

feet above sea level here, and definitely in the Northern hemisphere, but not too many degrees of

latitude off the Equator, considering that the Sun runs high in the sky. We seem to be in the

foothills of an enormous mountain range, and the mountains are old enough to be forested--that

is, no active apparent volcanoes

in sight, and no mountains which look like the result of volcanic activity within the last few

millennia. It's not a young planet."

"Signs of life?" Leicester asked.

"Birds in plenty. Small animals, perhaps mammals but I'm not sure. More kinds of trees

than I knew how to identify. A good many of them were a kind of conifer, but there seemed to be

hardwoods too, of a kind, and some bushes with various seeds and things. A botanist could tell

you a lot more. No signs of any kind of artifact, however, no signs that anything has ever been

cultivated or touched. As far as I can tell, the planet's untouched by human--or any other--hands.

But of course we may be in the middle of the equivalent of the Siberian steppes or the Gobi

desert--way, way off the beaten track."

He paused, then said, "About twenty miles due east of here, there's a prominent

mountain peak--you can't miss it--from which we could take sightings, and get some rough

estimate of the planet's mass, even without elaborate instruments, We might also sight for rivers,

plains, water supply, or any signs of civilization."

Camilla Del Rey said, "From space there was no sign of life."

Moray, the heavy swarthy man who was the official representative of Earth Expeditionary,

and is charge of the Colonists, said quietly, "Don't you mean no signs of a technological

civilization, Officer? Remember, until a scant four centuries ago, a starship approaching Earth

could not have seen any signs of intelligent life there, either."

Captain Leicester said curtly' "Even if there is some form of pre-technological civilization,

that is equivalent to no civilization at all, and whatever form of life there may be here, sapient or

not, is not of any consequences to our purpose. They could give us no help in repairing our ship,

and provided we are careful not to contaminate their ecosystems, there is no reason to approach

them and create culture shock."

"I agree with your last statement" Moray said slowly, "but I would like to raise one

question you have not yet mentioned, Captain. permission?"

Leicester granted, "First thing I said was that we're suspending protocol for the duration-

go ahead."

"What's being done to check this planet out for habitability,in the event the drives can't be

repaired, and we're stuck here?"

MacAran felt a moment of shock which stopped him cold, then a small surge of relief.

Someone had said it. Someone else was thinking about it. He hadn't had to be the one to bring it

up.

But on Captain Leicester's face the shock had not gone away; it had frozen into a stiff

cold anger. "There's very little chance of that."

Moray got heavily to his feet. "Yes. I heard what your crew was saying, but I'm not

entirely convinced. I think that we should start, at once, to take inventory of what we have, and

what is here, in the event that we are marooned here permanently."

"Impossible," Captain Leicester said harshly. "Are you trying to say you know more than

my crew about the condition of our ship, Mr. Moray?"

"No. I don't know a damn thing about starships, don't know as I particularly want to. But I

know wreckage when I see it. I know a good third of your crew is dead, including some important

technicians. I heard officer Del Rey say that she thought--she only thought--that the navigational

computer could be fixed, and I do know that nobody can navigate a M-AM drive in interstellar

space without a computer. We've got to take it into account that this ship may not be going

anywhere. And in that case, we won't be going anywhere either. Unless we've got some boy

genius who can build an interstellar communications satellite in the next five years with the local

raw materials and the handful of people we have here, and send a message back to Earth, or to

the Alpha Centauri or Coronis colonies to come and fetch their little lost sheep."

Camilla Del Rey said in a low voice, "Just what are you trying to do, Mr. Moray?

Demoralize us further? Frighten us?"

"No. I'm trying to be realistic."

Leicester said, making a noble effort to control the fury that congested his face, "I think

you're out of order, Mr. Moray. Our first order of business is to repair the ship, and for that

purpose it may be necessary to draft every man, including the passengers from your Colonists

group. We cannot spare large groups of men for remote contingencies," he added emphatically,

"so if

that was a request, consider it denied. Is there any other business?"

Moray did not sit down. "What happens then if six weeks from now we discover that you

can't fix your ship? Or six months?"

Leicester drew a deep breath. MacAran could see the desperate weariness in his face

and his effort not to betray it. "I suggest we cross that bridge if, and when, we see it in the

distance, Mr. Moray. There is a very old proverb that says, sufficient unto the day is the evil

thereof. I don't believe that a delay of six weeks will make all that difference in resigning

ourselves to hopelessness and death. As for me, I intend to live, and to take this ship home

again, and anyone who starts defeatist talk will have to reckon with me. Do I make myself clear?"

Moray was evidently not satisfied; but something, perhaps only the Captain's will, kept

him quiet. He lowered himself into his seat still scowling.

Leicester pulled Camilla's lapboard toward him. "Is there anything else? Very well. I

believe that will be all, ladies and gentlemen. Lists of survivors and wounded, and their condition,

will be posted tonight. Yes, Father Valentine?"

"Sir, I have been requested to say a Requiem Mass for the dead at the site of the mass

graves. Since the Protestant chaplain was killed in the crash, I would like to offer my services to

anyone, of any faith, who can use them for anything whatsoever:"

Captain Leicester's face softened as he looked at the young priest, his arm in a sling and

one side of his face heavily bandaged. He said, "Hold your service by all means, Father. I

suggest dawn tomorrow. Find someone who can work on erecting a suitable memorial here;

some day, maybe a few hundred years from now, this planet may be colonized, and they should

know. Well have time for that, I imagine."

"Thank you, Captain Will you excuse me? I must go back to the hospital"

"Yes, Father, go ahead. Anyone who wants to get back now is excused--unless there are

any questions? Very well." Leicester leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes briefly.

"MacAran and Dr. Lovat, will you stay a minute, please?"

MacAran came forward slowly, surprised beyondwords; he had never spoken to the

Captain before, and had not realized that Leicester knew him even by sight. What could he want?

The others were leaving the dome, one by one; Ewen touched his shoulder briefly and whispered,

"Heather and I will he at the Requiem Mass, Rafe. I've got to go. Come around to the hospital and

let me check that concussion. Peace, Rafe; see you later," before he slipped away.

Captain Leicester had slumped in his chair, and he looked exhausted and old, but he

straightened slightly as Judith Lovat and MacAran approached him. He said, "MacAran, your

profile said you've had some mountain experience. What's your professional specialty?"

"Geology. It's true, I've spent a good deal of time in the mountains."

"Then I'm putting you in charge of a brief survey expedition. Go climb that mountain, if

you can get up it, and take your sights from the peak, estimate the planet's mass, and so forth. Is

there a meteorologist or weather specialist in the colonist group?"

"I suppose so, sir. Mr. Moray would know for sure!'

"He probably would, and it might be a good idea for me to make a point of asking him,"

Leicester said. He was so weary he was almost mumbling. "If we can estimate what the weather

in the next few weeks is likely to do, we can decide how best to provide shelter and so forth for

the people. Also, any information about period of rotation, and so forth, might be worth something

to Earth Expeditionary. And--Dr. Lovat--locate a zoologist and a botanist, preferably from the

colonists, and send them along with MacAran. Just in case the food synthesizers break down.

They can make tests and take samples "

Judith said, "May I suggest a bacteriologist too, if there's one available?"

"Good idea. Don't let repair crews go short, but take what you need, MacAran. Anyone

else you want to take along?

"A medical technician, or at least a medical nurse," MacAran requested, "in case

somebody fall down a crevasse or gets chewed up by the local equivalent of Tyrannosaurus

Rex."

"or picks up some ghastly local bug," Judith said. "I ought to have thought of that."

"Okay, then, if the Medic chief can spare anybody," Leicester agreed.

"One more thing. First Officer Del Rey is going with you."

"May I ask what for?" MacAran said, slightly startled. "Not that she isn't welcome, though

it might be a rough trek for a lady. This isn't Earth and those mountains haven't any chairlifts!"

Camilla voice was low and slightly husky. He wondered if it was grief and shock, or

whether that was her natural tone. She said, "Captain, MacAran evidently doesn't know the worst

of it. How much do you know about the crash and its cause, then?"

He shrugged. "Rumors and the usual gossip. All I know is that the alarm bells began to

ring, I got to a safety area--so-called," he added, bitterly, remembering Jenny's mangled body,

"and the next thing I knew I was being dragged out of the cabin and hauled down a ladder.

Period."

"Well, then, here it is. We don't know where we are. We don't know what Sun this is. We

don't know even approximately what star cluster we're in. We were thrown off course by a

gravitational storm--that's the layman's term, I won't bother explaining what causes it. We lost our

orientation equipment with the first shock, and we had to locate the nearest star-system with a

potentially habitable planet, and get down in a hurry. So I've got to take some astronomical

sighting, if I can, and locate some known stars--I can do that with spectroscopic readings. From

there I may be able to triangulate our position in the Galactic Arm, and do at least part of the

computer re-programming from the planet's surface. It is easier to take astronomical observations

at an altitude where the air is thinner. Even if I don't get to the mountain's peak, every additional

thousand feet of altitude will give me a better chance for accurate readings." The girl looked

serious and grave, and he sensed that she was holding fear at bay with her deliberately didactic

and professional manner. "So if you can have me along on your expedition, I'm strong and fit, and

I'm not afraid of a long hard march. I'd send my assistant, but he has burns over 30 per cent of

his body surface and even if he recovers--and it's not certain he will--he won't be going anywhere

for a long, long time. There's no one else who knows as much about navigation and Galactic

Geography as I do, I'm afraid, so I'd trust my own readings more than anyone else's."

MacAran shrugged. He was no male chauvinist, and if the girl thought she could handle the

expedition's long marches she could probably do it. "Okay," he said, "it's up to you. We'll need

rations for four days minimum, and if your equipment is heavy, you'd better arrange to have

someone else carry it; everybody else will have his own scientific paraphernalia." He looked at

the thin shirt clinging damply to her upper body and added, a little harshly, "Drew warmly enough,

damn it; you'll get pneumonia."

She looked startled, confused, then suddenly angry; her eyes snapped at him. but

MacAran had already forgotten her. He said to the Captain, "When do you want us to start?

Tomorrow?"

"No, too many of us haven't had enough sleep," said Leicester, dragging himself up again

from what looked like a painful doze. "Look who's talking--and half my crew are in the same

shape. I'm going to order everybody but half a dozen watchmen to sleep tonight. Tomorrow,

except for basic work crews, we'll dismiss everyone for the memorial services for the dead; and

there's a lot of inventorying to do, and salvage work. Start--oh, two, three days from now. Any

preference about a medical officer?"

"May I have Ewen Ross if the chief can spare him?"

"I's okay by me'" Leicester said, and sagged again, evidently for a split second asleep

where he sat. MacAran said a soft, "Thank you, sir," and turned away. Camilla Del Rey laid a

hand, a feather's touch, on his arm.

"Don't you dare judge him," she said is a low, furious voice, "he's been on his feet since

two days before the crash on a steady diet of wakers, and he's too old for that! I'm going to see

he gets 24 hours straight sleep if I have to shut down the whole camp!"

Leicester pulled himself up again. "--wasn't asleep," he said firmly. "Anything else,

MacAran, Lovat?"

MacAran said a respectful, "No, sir," and slipped quietly away, leaving the Captain to his rest, his

First Officer standing over him like-the image touched his mind in shock---a fiercely maternal tiger

over her cub. Or over the old lion? And why did he care anyhow?

Chapter

TWO

Too much of the passenger section was either flooded with fire-prevention foam, or oil-slick and

dangerous; for that reason, Captain Leicester had given orders that all members of the expedition

to the mountain were to be issued surface uniforms, the warm, weatherproof garments meant for

spaceship personnel to wear on visiting the surface of an alien planet. They had been told to be

ready just after sunrise, and they were ready, shouldering their rucksacks of rations, scientific

equipment, makeshift campout gear. MacAran stood waiting for Camilla Del Rey, who was giving

final instructions to a crewman from the bridge.

"These times for sunrise and sunset are as exact as we can get them, and you have

exact azimuth readings for the direction of sunrise. We may have to estimate noon. But every

night, at sunset, shine the strongest light in the ship in this direction, and leave it on for exactly

ten minutes. That way we can run a line of direction to where we're going, and establish due east

and west. You already know about the noon angle readings."

She turned and saw MacAran standing behind her. She said, with composure, "Am I

keeping you waiting? I'm sorry, but you must understand the necessity for accurate readings."

"I couldn't agree more," MacAran said, "and why ask me? You outrank everybody in this

party, don't you, ma'am?"

She lifted her delicate eyebrows at him. "Oh, is that what's worrying you? As a matter of

fact, no. Only on the bridge. Captain Leicester put you in charge of this party, and believe me, I'm

quite content with that. I probably know as much about mountaineering as you do about celestial

navigation--if as much. I grew up in the Alpha colony, and you know what the deserts are like

there."

MacAran felt considerably relieved--and perversely annoyed. This woman was just too

damned perceptive! Oh, yes, it would minimize tensions if he didn't have to ask her as a superior

officer to pass along any orders-or suggestions--about the trip. But the fact remained that

somehow she'd managed to make him feel officious, blundering and like a damn fool!

"Well," he said, "any time you're ready We've got a good long way to go, over some fairly

rough ground. So let's get this show on the road:"

He moved away toward where the rest of the group stood gathered, mentally taking

stock. Ewen Ross was carrying a good part of Camilla Del Rey's astronomical equipment, since,

as he admitted, his medical kit was only a light weight. Heather Stuart, wrapped like the others in

surface uniform, was talking to him in low tones, and MacAran thought wryly that it must be love,

when your girl got up at this unholy hour to see you off. Dr. Judith Lovat, short and sturdy, had an

assortment of small sample cases buckled together over her shoulder. He did not know the other

two who were waiting in uniform, and before they moved off, he walked around to face them.

"We've seen each other in the recreation rooms, but I don't think I know you. You are--"

The first man, a tall, hawk-nosed, swarthy man in his middle thirties, said, "Marco Zabal,

Xenobotanist. I'm coming at Dr. Lovat's request. I'm used to mountains. I grew up in the Basque

country, and I've been on expeditions to the Himalayas."

"Glad to have you." MacAran shook his hand. It would help to have someone else along

who knew mountains. "And your?"

"Lewis MacLeod. Zoologist, veterinary specialist."

"Crew member or colonist?"

"Colonist." MacLeod grinned briefly. He was small, fat, and fair-skinned. "And before you

ask, no, no formal mountaineering experience--but I grew up in the Scottish Highlands, and even

in this day and age, you still have to walk a good ways to get anywhere, and there's more vertical

country around than horizontal"

MacAran said, "Well, that's a help. And now that we're all together--Ewen, kiss your girl goodbye

and let's get moving."

Heather laughed softly, turning and putting back the hood of the uniform--she was a small

girl, slight and delicately made, and she looked even smaller in some larger woman's uniform--

"Come off it, Rafe. I'm going with you. I'm a graduate microbiologist, and I'm here to collect

samples for the Medic Chief."

"But--" MacAran frowned in confusion. He could understand why Camilla had to come--

she was better qualified for the job than any man. And Dr. Lovat, perhaps, understandably felt

concerned. He said' "I asked for men on this trip. It's some mighty rough ground." He looked at

Ewen for support, but the younger man only laughed.

"Do I have to read you the Terran Bill of Rights? No law shall be made or formulated

abridging the rights of any human being to equal work regardless of racial origin, religion or sex--"

"Oh, damn it, don't you spout Article Four at me," MacAran muttered. "If Heather wants to

wear out her shoe leather and you want to let her, who am I to argue the point?" He still

suspected Ewen of arranging it. Hell of a way to start a trip! And here he'd been, despite the

serious purpose of this mission, excited about actually having a chance to climb an unexplored

mountain--only to discover that he had to drag along, not only a female crew member--who at

least looked hardy and in good training-but Dr. Lovat, who might not be old but certainly wasn't as

young and vigorous as he could have wished, and the delicate-looking Heather. He said' "Well,

let's get going," and hoped he didn't sound as glum as he felt.

He lined them up, leading the way, placing Dr. Lovat and Heather immediately behind

him with Ewen so that he would know if the pace he set was too hard for them, Camilla next with

MacLeod, and the mountain-trained Zabal to bring up the rear. As they moved away from the ship

and through the small clutter of roughly-made buildings and shelters, the great red sun began to

lift above the line of faraway hills, like an enormous, inflamed, bloodshot eye. Fog lay thick in the

bowl of land where the ship lay, but as they began to climb up out of the valley it thinned and

shredded, and in spite of himself' MacAran's spirits began to lift. It was, after all, no small thing to

be leading a party of exploration' perhaps the only party of exploration for hundreds of years, on a

wholly new planet.

They walked in silence; there was plenty to see. As they reached the lip of the valley,

MacAran paused and waited for them to come up with him.

"I have very little experience with alien planets," he said. "But don't blunder into any

strange underbrush, look where you step, and I hope I don't have to warn you not to drink the

water or eat anything until Dr. Lovat has given it her personal okay. You two are the specialists."

he indicated Zabal and MacLeod, "anything to add to that?"

"Just general caution," MacLeod said. "For all we know this planet could be alive with

poisonous snakes and reptiles but our surface uniforms will protect us against most dangers we

can't see. I have a handgun for use is extreme emergencies--if a dinosaur or huge carnivore

comes along and rushes us--but is general it would be better to run away than shoot. Remember

this is preliminary observation, and don't get carried away in classifying and sampling--the next

team that comes here can do that."

"If there is a next team," Camilla murmured. She had spoken under her breath, but

Rafael heard her and gave her a sharp look. All he said was, "Everybody, take a compass

reading for the peak, and be sure to mark every time we move off that reading because of rough

ground. We can see the peak from here; once we get further into the foothills we may not be able

to see anything but the neat hilltop, or the trees."

At first it was easy, pleasant walking, up gentle slopes between tall, deeply rooted

coniferous trunks, surprisingly small in diameter for their height, with long blue-green needles on

their narrow branches. Except for the dimness of the red sun, they might have beep in a forest

preserve on Earth. Now and again Marco Zabal fell out of line briefly to Inspect some tree or leaf

or root pattern, and once a small animal scooted away in the woods. Lewis MacLeod watched it

regretfully and said to Dr. Lovat, "One thing--there are furred mammals here. Probably

marsupials, but I'm not sure."

The woman said, "I thought you were going to take specimens."

"I will, on the way back. I've no way to keep live

specimens on the way, how would I know what to feed them? But if you're worried about food

supply, I should say that so far every mammal on any planet without exception, has proved to be

edible and wholesome. Some aren't very tasty, but milk-secreting animals are all evidently alike in

body chemistry."

Judith Lovat noted that the fat little zoologist was puffing with effort, but she said nothing.

She could understand perfectly well the fascination of being the first to see and classify the

wildlife of a completely strange planet, a job usually left to highly specialized First Landing teams'

and she supposed MacAran wouldn't have accepted him for the trip unless he was physically

capable of it.

The same thought was on Ewen Ross's mind as he walked beside Heather, neither of

them wasting their breath in talk. He thought, Rafe isn't setting a very hard pace, but just the

same I'm not too sure how the women will take it. When MacAran called a halt, a little more than

an hour after they had set out, he left the girl and moved over to MacAran's side.

"Tell me, Rafe, how high is this peak?"

"No way of telling, as far off as I saw it, but I'd estimate eighteen-twenty thousand feet."

Ewen asked, "Think the women can handle it?"

"Camilla will have to; she's got to take astronomical observations. Zabal and I can help

her if we have to, and the rest of you can stay further down on the slopes if you can't make it."

"I can make it," Ewen said, "Remember, the oxygen content of this air is higher than

earth's; anoxia won't set in quite so low." He looked around the group of men and women, seated

and resting, except for Heather Stuart, who was digging out a soil sample and putting it into one

of her tubes. And Lewis MacLeod had flung himself down full length and was breathing hard,

eyes closed. Ewen looked at him with some disquiet, his trained eyes spotting what even Judith

Lovat had not seen, but he did not speak. He couldn't order the man sent back at this distance--

not alone, in any case.

It seemed to the young doctor that MacAran was following his thoughts when the other

man said abruptly, "Doesn't this seem almost too easy, too good? There has to be a catch to this

planet somewhere. It's too much like a picnic in a forest preserve."

Ewen thought, some picnic, with fifty-odd dead and over a hundred hurt to the crash, but

he didn't say it, remembering Rafe had lost his sister. "Why not, Rafe? Is there some law that

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DarkoverLandfallCopyright(r)1972byMarionZimmerBradleyACKNOWLEDGMENTS:ThesongsquotedinthetextfromtheNewHebridesCommuneareallfromtheSongsoftheHebrides,collectedbyMarjorieKennedy-Fraserandpublished1909,1922,byBooseyandHawker.TheSeagulloftheLand-Under-Waves,EnglishwordsbyMrs.Kennedy-Fraser,fromtheGaelic...

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