Free Masters of Everon by Gordon R. Dickson Page A

its differences and dangers— but also expecting the assistance and aid of the people who had come here before him.
    Unconsciously he had been thinking that everyone who emigrated to a new world like this would be like William. Where he had never expected friendship or help from any among the teeming billions of people on Earth, he had expected those things, automatically, out here. That had been why, he now realized, he had been hit so hard by the hostility of the other passengers on the spaceship, and that of the Constable, on landing.
    Now, in the face of his expectations, everything had been reversed. Those humans belonging to Everon had treated him with coldness and suspicion. But the different and dangerous planet he had been braced to encounter had seemed to reach out golden-green, warm and strangely friendly arms to welcome and enfold him.
    He laughed a little to himself. He was being fanciful.
    Nonetheless, it was a fact that he had seldom felt as free as he did at this moment, and never in his memory could he remember feeling happier. He was headed out at last to do the research he had always wanted to do, with Mikey, who had always been closer to him than anyone but his immediate family; and there were, as far as he could see now that he had left Everon City behind, no clouds on the horizon of his immediate future to trouble this prospect.
    It was a strange feeling but a good one. He fastened his gaze on the landscape below. Ten minutes later there was no sign of city or planted fields under them at all; and they were fleeing west and north over a sea of yellow-green grass that seemed to stretch unbroken and unblemished to the uplands and the misty mountains.
    They traveled for nearly an hour above the apparently endless grass and occasional herds of wisent, seemingly hidden shoulder-deep in it. Jef found himself surprised to see how small the variform of the European bison must be. As best he could judge from the air, they could not be much bigger than sheep. Then a dark line appeared on the farther horizon and grew into a green band of forest, stretching on to a farther horizon. The rotorcraft approached to within a hundred meters of the forest edge and slowed gradually to a hover. Instead of landing, the craft held its position ten meters off the ground and the entrance door opened itself on the air. A section of floor moved outward through the opening and became a platform supported by cables slanting down on either side of the entrance.
    "Ready to descend," said the driver. "Don't worry, that platform can carry cargo ten times the weight of you and the maolot and it has, lots of times."
    "I wasn't exactly worried," retorted Jef. "Just surprised. Why don't you land?"
    "Ordinance," said the pilot. "Don't ask me why. It's the law, is all."
    Jef got up from his seat and led Mikey out on to the platform. He had been afraid that Mikey would choose this time to be excited, as he had been on boarding the craft, but the maolot was now perfectly calm and docile. Jef found himself looking at the horizon, rather than straight down. Ten meters was no great height, but the platform was only about a meter and a half by three meters in area, and it had no side rails. He felt the metal surface tremble under him as the cables extended, and the ground came slowly up to meet them until they touched, flattening the grass beneath.
    Once down Jef stepped off, staring about himself. This grass was as tall as his own head. Evidently he had been badly wrong about the size of the variform wisents. They must be nearly as big as buffalo back on Earth. However, there was no point in worrying about that now. Luckily, he could see the edge of the forest through the heads of the stems.
    "All right?" called down the driver. Jef looked up.
    "All right," Jef waved. "Take it up. Thanks."
    "Luck!" The platform began to be drawn back to the rotorcraft again. It mounted all the way, was taken back in, and the door of the craft shut. The pilot waved