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conserve heat and withstand the hurricane-force winds that swept the tiny
islet.
Ethan was able to scramble within a meter of the crown, which swayed slightly
in the steady wind.
In fact, the wind had not ceased howling since their initial setdown.
From the top he was a good thirty meters above the ice, perhaps more. He
looked down to his left.
From this vantage point he had an excellent view of the crumpled lifeboat and
the arrow-straight skid marks in the ice that extended un-broken to the
horizon.
Off to his right, he thought he could make out in the dis-tance a greenish
tinge to the ice. More pike-pine, or maybe its giant relative, pike-pedan.
Further off, there were one or two bumps on the horizon that might be large
islands. Unfortu-nately, they lay due east. Not that they wouldn't head for
them if they proved to be the only land in sight, but he'd pre-fer to move in
the direction of civilization.
He turned, keeping a firm grip, and was gratified to see what looked tike
similar bulges off to the west. They appeared to be just as large-if indeed
there was actually something there besides a mirage or a figment of his
wind-chilled sight. It was harder to see on this side because he was looking
di-rectly into the wind. While the tree remained thankfully solid, the ice
goggles expressed a perverse tendency to shift position under the shield on
his face. He reached around and fumbled with the strap, managed to tighten
them a little.
Ire squinted harder.
On the ice between their island and those distant humps, he thought he could
see a dozen or so dark spots on the ice. They weren't pike-pine, because they
seemed to be moving.
September's voice floated up to him. "See anything, lad?" The wind made it
sound farther away than it was. Ire turned out of the breeze and yelled
downward.
"I'm not sure! Maybe a pack of animals. Then again, we might be due for an
invitation to a feast."
"Okay!" A wide grin split the shrunken upturned face. "Let's hope we're
offered a menu and not put on one."
Ethan had another look at the distant dots. He assured him-self that they were
really moving toward the island before be-ginning to pick his way down the
ice-hard trunk.
Little clouds of frozen breath, the two men jogged their way down to the boat.
Williams and the others were waiting for them. The schoolmaster helped
September close the com-partment door behind them.
Ethan saw that Walther's jacket and pants were full of awkward bulges. It gave
him a falsely gnomish appearance. His head was swathed in torn cloth anti
black eyes peered out through a small
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20-%20Icerigger.txt slit. It wasn't pretty and couldn't have been very
comfortable, but maybe it was warm. And the kidnapper was in no position to
quibble about fashion.
"How's that finger?" September asked Colette about her fa-ther's injury.
"We put some anesthetic cream on it," she told them. "It seems to have brought
the swelling down.
The pain is still there, but it's not as severe."
"Beautiful creature," breathed du Kane. "Fascinating de-fense mechanism. Or it
might be offensive.
We pulled several dozen tiny stingers out of the tip of the glove. I'd very
much dislike to step on it barefoot."
"A lot like the terran jellyfish," added Williams.
"Speaking of stingers," offered Ethan as casually as he could, "I think we're
due for a visit from the local welcoming committee." Would that shake her up?
"About time," she grumbled. "Damned inefficient."
"Might be a hunting party," September added cheerfully.
"Natives!" blurted Williams excitedly. "How marvelous! I must try to note as
much as possible. My students will be fas-cinated." He seemed utterly
oblivious to the fact that he might be some other student's main course before
the day was out.
"Do you think they'll be friendly?" asked du Kane hesi-tantly.
"Not much we can do if they're not," said Colette coldly.
"Might even be cannibals," added September, apparently determined to lighten
the atmosphere. "Lad, you've had the tapes, you do the talkin'. I'll stand to
your right and try to look friendly.
Williams, you take his left, since you had a tape too."
"If the dialect isn't too thick, I should be able to understand them pretty
good, too," piped
Walther.
"I assumed that," September replied. "You stay in the back and keep your mouth
shut."
"I couldn't try anything," said the little man, hurt. "You all understand as
much as I.
"It's not your language that worries me, it's your ravishing appearance. It's
sufficiently distorted to frighten even a well- balanced primitive. I'd rather
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