"The ship," he whispered. "It's right in line with the holes! If whatever made them is still in operation...."
"Run!" yelled Allenby, and we ran like fiends.
We got the ship into the air, out of line with the holes to what we fervently hoped was safety, and then we realized we were admitting our fear that the mysterious hole-maker might still be lurking around.
Well, the evidence was all for it, as Gonzales had reminded us—that cactus had been oozing.
We cruised at twenty thousand feet and thought it over.
Janus, whose only training was in photography, said, "Some kind of omnivorous animal? Or bird? Eats rocks and everything?"
"I will not totally discount the notion of such an animal," Randolph said. "But I will resist to the death the suggestion that it forages with geometric precision."
After a while, Allenby said, "Land, Burton. By that 'canal.' Lots of plant life—fauna, too. We'll do a little collecting."
Burton set us down feather-light at the very edge of the sprawling flat expanse of vegetation, commenting that the scene reminded him of his native Texas pear-flats.