p; “So all you want is to be there for the kill,” said Noxon.
“They always leave the females behind. I’ll be the first woman to witness their triumph. See if the stories they tell about it are true.”
“They don’t tell stories,” said Wheaton.
“They move their mouths,” said Deborah. “They’re anthropes. They must be lying.”
There was no sound in sliced time, so as long as they remained invisible, they couldn’t tell whether the sounds the Erectids made were anything like language.
“There’s one kill site we could drive to,” said Noxon. “It’s near a public parking lot.”
“Even better,” said Ram. “We astronauts are so out of shape, after sitting around in a starship for a few years.”
“You should see the shape your twin is in, after going in and out of stasis for eleven thousand years.”
“He’s still alive,” said Ram. “Good for him.”
The next morning they drove to the parking lot early. It was at a ranger station, and it was also a jumping-off point for photographic safaris. So there were plenty of other people. But they were all gathered around the hovercars that would carry them out into the savannah. Only one ranger noticed that the Wheaton group was heading out on foot.
“Not safe,” said the ranger. “The lions stay away from the station but not very far away. And they aren’t the only dangerous animals.”
“We aren’t going far. Just wanted a brief glimpse without a car around us.”
“There’s a reason we send people out in cars,” said the ranger.
“An excellent reason, and more than just one,” said Deborah. “I assure you I’m a coward, and I’ll have us back in ten minutes.”
“I won’t be keeping track of time,” said the ranger. “No matter how long before you come back, we will not send anyone out to search for you. With luck, we’ll find your bodies while your passports are still legible.”
Noxon smiled. “Now she’ll hold my hand very tightly, sir. Thank you.”
The ranger shook his head and moved away.
“He was really making sure we weren’t armed,” said Wheaton. “There are still people who think ‘safari’ requires that you bring home trophies from animals you killed yourself.”
“Whereas we only want to watch our ancestors bring down a . . . something,” said Ram. Then, to Noxon: “Do you know what the prey is?”
“Not sure,” said Noxon. “I mean, I can see glimpses of it. Might be ancestral to a gnu. Large grazer from a smallish herd, anyway.”
“And is it a weak one? An old one?” asked Wheaton.
“I don’t think so,” said Noxon. “They don’t go for the old and sickly, or the babies. Since they know how to smoke the meat to preserve it, it’s worth the extra work to bring down large, healthy prey. They have enough men to carry home most of the meat.”
“It’s pretty remarkable,” said Wheaton. “Males hunting cooperatively. Wish we could hear whether they talk to each other during the hunt.”
“I’ll jump us back without slicing,” said Noxon. “To five minutes or so before they arrive. If we hide, we can hear if they’re calling out on the approach.”
“Will you know if it’s language?” asked Wheaton. “I mean, the ability to translate that you got from the Wall on Garden—will it work?”
“I don’t know,” said Noxon. “If it’s a human language, then I’m supposed to be able to make sense of it. But who knows where that line is drawn?”
“It’s a good plan,” said Ram. “As long as we all remain very still, and hold hands continuously so that when we need to go invisible, Noxon can carry us along.”
“It’s more than that,” said Noxon. “When I start slicing, we have to move. We only become invisible if we’re in motion.”
“We’ve done this about ten times now,” said Deborah. “We know that.”
Noxon shook his head. “You know it, but it’s not a reflex for you, the way it is for me. I’ve had to drag you to get you moving several times.”