"Let's see, Staines and Petrucci were taking soil samples. And Bondieu was chasing what he likes to call butterflies. It was very quiet. Those tall plants were just hanging limply. I remember Hakim saying, 'If we were home, I'd say we were going to have a storm.' I said something like, 'It'd be nice to see grass again for a change, even in a storm.' About that time, Bodkin got up and walked away from his cameras. I said, 'Where are you going?' He didn't answer. He took his head in his hands, and stood still, and I knew immediately what it was. But before I could get to him he collapsed."
"Did you look for insects?" Fenner asked.
"Yes, we thought of that at once. We looked to see if any of the leptorrhinae were on him, or any other bugs. There wasn't a thing, not a mark, not a sting or a puncture. Nothing."
He stopped and drew a long breath. "Well, then I thought about animals. I asked Bondieu—he'd been running around, after all. He said he thought he saw the oil-bushes moving, but he couldn't be sure. I set Staines and Petrucci to beating the bushes, but nothing turned up. I thought, then, if we could get Bodkin right back something might be done for him."
Hagen nodded slowly. "Quite right."
As Gorsline had been talking, the others had come in and now Hagen turned to them. "What about Bodkin?" he asked.
Bondieu, the tall, thin, gloomy-looking entomologist, said, "Not much hope, I'm afraid." He tapped his head. "The doctor says he's gone, like the others. Alive, but empty."
Fenner sat up abruptly and slapped his hands together. "I'm certain I'm right," he said. "It must be some sort of animal. The fact that you didn't notice anything doesn't mean a thing; any hostile animal would be exceedingly cautious and probably carefully camouflaged as well. The one thing you noticed—that it was so quiet—seems to me to indicate that something was prowling nearby."
"That is so," said Gorsline. "You remember, Hakim, there were no bird calls, no rustlings, none of the amphibians cheeping."