"We will have time for sight-seeing later. Let us move on," Et Avian ordered. Luckily, the soldiers were already down the ramp and had not heard the outburst. The noblekone went to the female, picked up one of her bags, and headed down the ramp. Dowornobb watched the unexpected act of forgiveness and impulsively went over and picked up her other bag. He smiled sympathetically at the cowering female and walked off, pretentiously still on his hinds, just as the noblekone had done; adding the extra burden of Mistress Kateos's bag to his own luggage required the full use of his arms, and it was more convenient to remain erect. It felt natural in the light gravity. Dowornobb self-consciously looked backward and noticed the others had fallen back on habit, crawling down the ramp on all fours, their bags carried over their backs or suspended from hooks and pouches at their midsections.

"Solar flares," insisted the managing director of Goldmine. "Solar flares blinded our network during the period. A tenuous object was reported, but we attributed it to solar flares."

Dowornobb looked at Et Avian and received a look in return communicating the noblekone' s opinion of the managing director: a total incompetent.

"Let us move forward," Et Avian continued. "Do you have any data that suggests a landing or an impact with the ground?"

"Or," Dowornobb interrupted, "can you provide orbital parameters?" He turned to Et Avian. "I can do a simulation and run a distribution pattern of most probable impact areas. The orbit would also define areas the aliens would have viewed as likely landing sites." Et Avian cast him a quick glance, at once a reprimand and a thoughtful stare.

"Aliens?" the director asked. "Are you saying aliens landed on Genellan?"

"Of course not!" the noblekone replied. "Scientist Dowornobb uses his own vocabulary. The object of our search is a suspected probe launched by southern mineral poachers. We have been tasked to determine the nature of that probe. Scientist Dowornobb's selection of words runs to the dramatic. Ha-ha-ha."

The director laughed politely. Dowornobb attempted to appear contrite, which he was. He had forgotten the noblekone's instructions. Dowornobb looked around the room, and his eyes were caught by Mistress Kateos. She stared audaciously at him, and he returned the stare, unable to help himself. She slowly averted her eyes, but she had looked into his soul.

The orbital simulation took only a week. A tremendous swathe of debris had been deposited across the lake-pocked terrain of western Corlia. Dowornobb ran the results to Et Avian, who was impatient for action. Summer had only one full month remaining. The weather would quickly become unpredictable after that time, except in one dimension: it would get cruelly colder.

Et Avian received permission for a suborbital launch to Ocean Station, the science facility on Corlia. He transmitted search coordinates and ordered fuel-staging to commence immediately.

The science station was located on the delta of a major river that met the northern shore of a fertile and nearly landlocked equatorial sea—the most temperate area on the planet. On rare occasions in the summer courageous kones even dared to touch bare toes to the frigid ocean waters.

Their suborbital module landed on a wide steel platform without a closed debarkation tower. The travelers were issued rugged suits with pressurized helmets. Fuel tanks carried on their backs were bulky, but the gentle gravity made them manageable. Once attired, the science team clambered down a ladder to a portable platform. From there they descended to the planet's surface. Suited scientists escorted them to a waiting tracked vehicle. After a short, bumpy ride the truck ramp opened to grass and sunshine. A smallish scientist awaited—without a helmet—his complexion swarthy, his posture erect. The scientist smiled largely at Et Avian and even dared to shake the noblekone' s hand. The visitors were escorted through a sturdy airlock, at which time they removed their helmets and talked excitedly. Mistress Kateos remained quietly apart, but Dowornobb, fervent with adventure, flashed her a spontaneous smile. She glowed enchantingly with embarrassment.

"Take care of your breathing units," the bareheaded scientist said, his demeanor ebullient and infectious. "We have few spares, and I guarantee you will be uncomfortable without one.

"Welcome to Ocean Station. My name is Et Silmarn. I am Chief Scientist here," he continued. "It is a pleasure to have visitors. Particularly old friends." He nodded fraternally to Et Avian and picked up a breathing unit. So he was also a noblekone. But his complexion was so dark, not the soft gold of the high families. The other scientists displayed the same swarthy coloring.

"Et Avian has briefed me," Et Silmarn continued, "on our mission. I will be accompanying you to the lakes as one of your pilots. We leave at first light. There is insufficient room inside the station for everyone to eat and sleep, so for tonight you will be camping out. The sooner you acclimate, the better. I mentioned the breathing units. You can breathe the air—what there is of it. A caution: even though the atmosphere is thin, there are high levels of poisonous gases that can make you sick or even kill you, particularly in the seismically active areas or near the great northern herds.

"But it is not the toxic gases that will cause you the greatest risk, it is the absence of air pressure. The low gravity that some of you are obviously enjoying" — he glanced at Dowornobb who still stood upon his hinds—"results in a low-pressure atmosphere, less than half of what you are used to. There are mountains here of sufficient height that will cause your blood to boil."

He glanced about. "That, of course, would be quite high, but it is theoretically possible. The point is: wear your breathing unit and take care of it. You cannot run out of air, but you can exhaust the fuel for the compressor. A fuel load should last a person in reasonable shape over a week. However, none of you is in decent shape, including your mission leader," he added good-naturedly.

"We will be heading outside. After you put your helmets on, I want you to find the regulation controls on the right side. These buttons and dials will control the richness, the pressure, and the temperature of the air. You will also find controls for your helmet speaker, head-up display, and headlamp.

"The next point: it is a very cold place. You have been provided an insulated suit with your breathing unit—a Genellan suit. The breathing unit bleeds heated air into the suit's insulation…the difference between life and death. When we go north, the temperature will drop far below the very coldest spot on Kon. And that is during the day. At night and the farther north we go, the more miserable it will get, and it will get more miserable than your worst nightmare." Et Silmarn scanned his nervous audience.

"Enough bad news. Time for good news. The science and the scenery are why we are here. I want half of you to put on your breathing units. After we have been outside for a few minutes those without units will put them on. Once they have successfully donned their units the others may remove theirs so they may sample the unfiltered and unpressurized air. The lesson: always make sure at least half the group is wearing breathing units. You can share breathing units."

They were herded into the airlock, and its door slid noiselessly shut. H'Aare immediately put on his helmet as did Mirrtis and two of the sullen soldiers. Dowornobb tried to avoid looking at Mistress Kateos, but his eyes disobeyed. She caught his gaze and smiled. Dowornobb felt peculiarly happy to share his adventure on the new planet. He nodded, and neither donned their helmet.