Wolfgang addressed the girl. “Tilda — it is Tilda, isn’t it? — you must have been briefed about Kallen’s World while you were on the way here. Right?” “Of course.”

“So I’m sure that you were told you were coming to a pleasant, benign world, well-suited to humans and with few dangers.”

“That’s exactly what we were told.” Tilda, encouraged by a nudge from the short, dark-haired youth next to her — there’s the troublemaker, Peron thought — went on, “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“It is, Jonas.” Wolfgang had identified the real source of the question. “This is a wonderful planet. In many ways it’s better for humans than Pentecost, or even the original homeworld, Earth. You all volunteered to live and work here, and you’ll enjoy it. Soon you’ll be free to wander around and see the place for yourselves. But there’s a huge difference between few dangers and no dangers. Today I’m going to take you and point out things that can be dangerous. I want you to see ‘em and smell ‘em and hear ‘em — and learn not to touch them. You do those things on the ground. You can’t do them sitting in an aircar. Any other questions?”

The youth nudged Tilda again, but she did not speak. Finally he said, “Dangerous things. You mean like the karnoos?”

Peron thought that a reasonable question. The karnoos were big, armored, and possessed a double array of scythelike teeth. They were also fairly intelligent, smarter than the night-lappers of Pentecost that made anyone except determined Planetfest competitors avoid the Villasylvia woods after dark.

Wolfgang smiled. “You’ve been looking at the pictures, haven’t you? But no, I don’t mean the karnoos. They are herbivores, and all they want is to be left in peace. They could certainly hurt you — take a look at the size of them, and all those teeth — but they are dangerous only if they can’t run away. Get in trouble with a karnoo, and you can bet it will be your own fault.”

“But we will see some, won’t we?” asked a tall, rangy girl at the back of the group.

“If we’re lucky. The karnoos are very picky about what they eat. We’ve had agbots planting our own crops in this area, which don’t seem to appeal to karnoo tastes. As our settlement spreads, they stay farther away. You’ll see karnoos when we get out beyond ten kilometers — which we never will do, unless people stop asking me questions and we start moving.”

“How smart are they?” It was the dark-haired youth next to Tilda again. “Smart enough, Jonas. Smart enough to build dams and avoid humans. The beginnings of language, too, we think — but we’ve never been able to study it, because once a karnoo is captured and realizes it can’t escape it just lies down. Either you have to let it go, or after a while it dies. Which is what you’re all going to feel like doing — of starvation — unless we leave this minute. We have a set amount of ground to cover before we stop and eat. Let’s go.” Wolfgang waved a hand, to show that he would listen to no more questions, and ushered the group away along one of the paths that led through planted fields toward the undeveloped areas beyond.

“Anyway, it’s not the animals,” Peron heard Wolfgang saying as they went. “It’s the plants you have to watch out for. There’s a fruit that I’m going to show you. The karnoos love it, and we call it a globerry. Like a big yellow plum, smells wonderful and tastes even better. Eat one, and you’re likely to eat another. Which would be a terrible mistake. They contain a hemolytic poison. Unless you throw up at once, you’ll sweat, vomit blood, pee blood, and collapse. Then there’s the papercut bush.…”

Peron noticed that the group was hanging slightly closer to Wolfgang as they went out of sight. He smiled, and went back into the house. It had been grown mainly from Elissa’s specifications, and was big for Peron’s tastes. But he could not complain about the kitchen. Elissa had programmed in everything that he liked to eat.

He scanned incoming messages as he ate breakfast. Not surprisingly, there was nothing new from any of the S-space facilities. During the nine hours since he had last looked, only a quarter of a minute had passed in S-space. Also, and more to the point, little or nothing had happened here. Perhaps that was predictable, but no one had foreseen it when they discussed a second facility. And everyone had agreed that if it was not to be in S-space, then a planetary setting would be more attractive than anywhere else to the fresh new talent that they needed. What was less obvious was the amount of time and effort it took to form what was, in effect, a new planetary colony. As the number of people grew, the original settlement had expanded to two, then three, widely separated groups. Soon there would be more, with easy and continuous communication among them.

All the newcomers needed a lot of teaching. That didn’t seem to worry Wolfgang. He must miss Charlene, but otherwise he seemed totally happy with their new existence. Peron didn’t know much about Wolfgang’s background, but the man was a natural father who just happened to have no children of his own. In the old days he had apparently lavished care and affection on the animals in his charge. Now he was responsible for every new group of arrivals on Kallen’s World, complaining to Peron about their questions while obviously delighting in their youth and enthusiasm. He would never leave for S-space, or anywhere else. And Peron himself? That was a harder question. Food was certainly better here than in S-space, and it always would be. He helped himself to another muffin, sniffing that fresh-baked aroma before he bit into the crisp surface. Sex was better, too. He and Elissa had known that long ago, before the end of their brief visit to old Earth.

But there was another important variable: knowledge. Stay here, and you would never find out what was changing selected stars of the local arm to red dwarfs. You would never learn if humanity survived the threat. You would be dead, long before humans could meet the aliens or understand the nature of the Pipistrelles and Gossameres. You would be plagued by one of the oldest questions: what comes next, after I am gone?

Peron heard a noise from the narrow hallway. Elissa was up — at last. Recently she seemed to have been sleeping later and later. He poured another cup in anticipation of her arrival, then studied again the most recent plan of the settlement. Wolfgang had been an optimist when he said the new group might see some karnoos at ten kilometers. A new clearing by the agbots had already spread beyond that.

Elissa entered, rubbing her eyes. She came across to Peron, gave him a silent hug, then grabbed the drink that he had poured for her.

“Not even a thank-you?” He held her robe so that she could not step away, and put his other arm around her waist. “A wonderful bright morning on Kallen’s World, and you with a face so grim.”

“Not grim.” She smiled down at him. “Serious. Big difference. What are you doing?”

“Reviewing our progress — or lack of it.”

“I was afraid that’s what you might say.”

“I’m wondering if we should be here at all. We were so sure that a second research facility in normal space was the answer, but we’ve discovered nothing. In five years, we’ve not reported one useful thing to Gulf City.” “Five years. That’s, let’s see, a bit less than a day in S-space. They’re not looking for results from us yet — they hardly know we’ve left.”

“But we know. Almost all our efforts go into the colony, making sure that new arrivals are safe or directing the work of the people already here. I was thinking, five years of that is enough for us. Wolfgang loves it here, and he has everything under control. We could return to S-space for a while, and come back here if and when they need us. What do you think, Elissa?”

She was standing by his side. Instead of answering, she grabbed his arm that was still around her waist. She pulled open her robe. She was wearing nothing underneath it, and she placed his hand on her bare belly.