Free The Fugitive Worlds by Bob Shaw Page A

who could make jokes at times of stress, and he had to admit that he would have had trouble summoning up the nerve to go as close to the frightened bluehorn's head as Jerene had done.
    "You may rejoin your ship now," he said stiffly. "The farmers can collect their bluehorn when they're ready."
    "Yes, sir." Jerene pushed herself clear of the quiescent animal and reached for the controls of her propulsion unit.
    Toller now felt that he had been unfair. "By the way, lieutenant. ..."
    "Sir?"
    "You did well with the bluehorn."
    "Why thank you, sir," Jerene said, smiling demurely in a way which left Toller almost certain that he was being mocked. He watched her jet away from him, trailing a cone of rolling white condensation, and his thoughts turned immediately to Vantara. She had narrowly escaped injury from the bluehorn's hoof and had done the right thing in retiring to her ship at once. It was unfortunate, though, that her doing so had deprived him of the opportunity to establish a better relationship between them.
    But I've got time in hand, he thought, deciding to be philosophical. There'll be all the time in the world when we get to Land.

Chapter 4
    Divivvidiv was awakened from mid-brain-sleep by a telepathic whisper from the Xa.
    Look about you, Beloved Creator, the Xa said, using the mind-color green to show that it considered the matter to be of some urgency.
    What is happening? Divivvidiv responded, still not fully restored to every level of consciousness. He had been dreaming of simpler and happier times, in particular about his early childhood on Dussarra, and his high-brain had just begun devising the scenario for a fulfilling day, one which would have been fed in every detail into slumbering mid-brain and which he would have lived in full while asleep. He would, of course, be able to recreate it during his next inert period, but inevitably there would be some minor differences, and he could not help but experience a slight sense of loss. The vanished dream-day had promised to be well-nigh perfect. Nostalgia compounded. . . .
    The Primitives ascending from the surface of their planet have passed through the datum plane, the Xa went on. They have inverted their vessels and —
    Which shows they are on their way to the sister planet, Divivvidiv interrupted. Why did you disturb me?
    I have been able to perceive them with greater clarity, Beloved Creator, and I must inform you that their organs of sight are much superior to yours. Also, they have developed instruments which efficiently magnify optical images.
    Telescopes! The idea of a primitive species having been able to devise ways of manipulating a medium as intractable as light startled Divivvidiv into full wakefulness. He sat up on the smooth, spongy block which was his bed and switched off its artificial gravity field, without which he would have been unable to enter any but the most superficial level of sleep.
    Tell me, he said to the Xa, will the Primitives be able to see us? He had to ask the question, to rely for the moment on the Xa's senses, because his own radius of direct perception was severely curtailed by the metal walls of the habitat.
    Yes, Beloved Creator. Two of them are already scanning the general area of the visual sphere in which we are located — one of them with the aid of a double telescope — and there is a strong possibility of our being detected. The heaters of the protein synthesizing station are the most likely to draw atten tion — they leak radiation which is well within that part of the spectrum spanned by the Primitives' eyes. 'Purple' is the word they use for it.
    I will shut down the heaters immediately. Divivvidiv floated himself out of the habitat's living quarters and into the principal operations hall. His trajectory carried him through the air to the control matrix which governed nutrient production, and he used a pencil-slim grey finger to divert the flow of power away from the row of exterior heaters.
    I have done it, he