She smiled with satisfaction. The informal name “Sphinxian swamp siren” was already in use among the few informed parties. Remembering how good she had felt when her term “treecat” had been accepted, Stephanie understood the smile.
“It’s good to know the newsies won’t get much from you,” Dr. Hobbard said. “As to Dr. Whittaker…His behavior was not the best. However, he didn’t do anything that harmed any Sphinxian native. There was some discussion of asking him to leave, of putting Dr. Nez in charge, but Dr. Nez lacks Dr. Whittaker’s academic reputation. So a compromise has been suggested. Dr. Whittaker will be permitted to remain, but only if he and possibly the members of his expedition agree to carry tracking beacons with them whenever they leave their residence.”
“I think I could agree to that,” Dr. Emberly said, glancing at her mother.
Dacey nodded. “As long as I’m not tracked when I’m at home, I’m fine. Actually, after what we’ve been through, I’d be happy to know I could be found.”
Anders nodded agreement. “I don’t think I ever realized just how big a planet could be until after we went down and I started thinking about how hard it would be for even an intensive search to find us.”
Dr. Hobbard nodded. “That’s good. Hopefully, the rest of your associates will feel the same way. Meanwhile, when we have time, we’re going to come up with a variation on events that will be close enough to reality to work. Stephanie, just how many of your friends know how Dr. Whittaker’s group ended up in the wrong place?”
“Just me and Karl,” Stephanie said. “Anders told us later.”
“Good. Right now the planned cover story is something like this. Dr. Whittaker and his group were heading out for their assigned locations but decided to divert to take some pictures of the site for comparison. They landed in the bog and the rest is history.”
“That should work,” Dr. Emberly agreed. “It’s close enough to the truth. The only thing it leaves out is that Dr. Whittaker intended to do a bit more than take a few pictures. If you leak out the fact that he was enough of a rube to land on a bog, that we didn’t even have the right uni-link programs, well, we’ll come across as laughable, but not willfully arrogant.”
“Which Dad was,” Anders said. He turned to face Dr. Hobbard. “I mean, how do you deal with that?”
“We deal with it,” Dr. Hobbard said, “by adding a few members to your team. The Forestry Service is still stretched thin with fire watch, but I think a couple of probationary rangers would be happy to help with the first couple of shifts.”
Stephanie felt herself flushing with excitement. Spend days with Anders? Watch anthropologists and how they studied cultures. Do a lot of camping?
“I’d love it!” she said.
“Me, too,” Karl agreed. “I’ll need to talk with my folks, though.”
Stephanie glanced at her parents. “Uh, me too.”
But, judging from their expressions, Dr. Hobbard had already spoken with the Harringtons and they were open to the idea.
“Calida, I want to ask you about that swamp siren,” Dr. Hobbard said. “Why do you think the treecats would choose to live near something so horrible? It’s evident they knew it was there.”
“Well,” Dr. Emberly said, “I’d guess they didn’t have much choice, not if they wanted to take advantage of the bog. There’s plenty of advantage to such a location: rich soil that grows a wide variety of edible plants, fishing, good hunting. So, I figure they simply avoided the deeper areas where the swamp siren lived.”
“Still,” Marjorie Harrington said, “it does seem dangerous. I’m guessing that many people would argue this is a point against the treecats being sentient.”
“Not as much as you’d think,” Dr. Emberly said. “The treecats obviously knew how to drive the swamp siren off. Remember, humans have chosen much more dangerous environments in which to settle. For example, on Old Terra there were enormous carnivorous fish called sharks. Tours would spread offal on the water to attract the sharks, then send divers down in light metal cages to take pictures.”
“I see your point,” Marjorie agreed. “Even here in enlightened modern times we have people who insist on going hunting with bows-just for the thrill.”
Stephanie had to add, “Think about the risks the colonists here take with fire. Even with the SFS constantly issuing warnings, still, too many fires are caused by human carelessness.”
“What is the situation with the fire?” asked Scott MacDallan.
Karl was opening his mouth to answer when a knock at the door interrupted him. Jessica and her mom came in, accompanied by a much recovered Valiant. The bond between treecat and human had been another element that had diverted criticism from Stephanie and her friends when their choice to go in and help the treecats had come to the attention of the Forestry Service. It was evident that the treecats, at least, wholly approved.
Moreover, Dr. Emberly and Dr. Whittaker’s holo-images of the treecats coming to the rescue of the stranded humans, of how they had confronted the swamp siren, had shown that treecats as a community-not merely those who had been dismissed as isolated eccentrics, like Fisher and Lionheart-were willing to assist humans. This news was already having a marked effect on human opinions about treecats. Diehards might not be willing to admit that treecats were “people” any more than tales that dolphins had saved drowning sailors had automatically stopped fisheries from damaging practices, but the general attitude was much more positive.
After greetings were exchanged, Jessica and Naomi Pherris shared a news bulletin they’d heard on their way over.
“Both fires are officially contained,” Jessica announced. “There are still pockets, but short of something really unexpected, the threat is over. Not a single town or holding was lost. Property damage was reported as ‘minimal.’”
When the cheering died down, Stephanie said somberly, “But even so there was a lot of damage done, a lot of animals lost their homes.”
She found herself remembering what they’d seen after they’d dropped off Dr. Nez at Scott’s emergency clinic. They’d gone over to where Richard Harrington was treating animals brought in from the fire zone so that he could look at Valiant’s injuries. Jessica had insisted that hers-Stephanie had wrapped her swollen ankle-could wait.
Whereas over in the human areas Scott had been able to immediately turn his attention to Dr. Nez, the situation at the veterinary clinic had been different. Animals injured by smoke and flames, sometimes by acting foolishly in panic, waited in carriers, boxes, and crates. Larger animals were outside in trailers. Valiant’s minor burns were ruled noncritical, although Dad had promised to take another look when he had time.
Over to one side of the clinic, waiting patiently, had sat Trudy Franchitti, carriers large and small clustered around her feet. A very limp near-otter lay across her lap. She was holding an oxygen mask to its face. At first, Stephanie had been inclined, as always, to despise Trudy for keeping so many animals captive. Then she had caught a scrap of what Trudy’s father, who was standing glowering down at his daughter, was saying.
“…and you deliberately defied me. What if you’d been hurt?”
Trudy had stuck out her chin defiantly and Stephanie had seen that her skin was smudged with smoke. There were even a few small burns.
Trudy didn’t shout, but her words still carried. “I wasn’t hurt. I couldn’t leave them there to be burned alive or smothered. Anyhow, it’s over. Maybe I’ll just get rid of them, but only after the vet tells me it’s okay for them to go wild.”
“Well,” Mr. Franchitti said, turning on his heel and striding from the room, “you can take his bill out of your allowance.”
So maybe even Trudy wasn’t all bad. Maybe.
While they waited for Dad to be able to look at Valiant, Stephanie and her friends had done what they could to help out. None of them had vet training, but able hands to carry water and ointments were readily accepted. Stephanie guessed that somewhere in the course of this, Dad-and Mom, who was also helping-had figured that they weren’t too mad at her for taking risks.
Stephanie thought about that later that night when the party broke up. She was walking with Anders, trailing the group heading out to Dr. Hobbard’s car.
“You could stay here,” Stephanie suggested. “Karl and Jessica are. I could fly you back tomorrow.”
Anders shook his head sadly. “Dad’s doing better now that the stress is off, but I’m afraid to leave him for too long. You don’t know how…He got really scary out there. I’m still trying to figure out how to write Mom the truth. She needs to know all of it, not just his version, not just the official version.”
