Biney, listening from the third lander, broke in: "What's going on, Randy?"

All the Wood was trapped inside the Flickinger fields, so it was difficult to make out details of the wounds. But each of the three looked as if he'd been jabbed, bitten, gouged, whatever, numerous times. The wounds looked small, he thought. The attacker had been small. Attackers. There had certainly been more than one.

He must have said it aloud. "Small?" said Biney. "How small?"

"Rat size, maybe. Maybe a little bigger."

Whatever they had been, they'd succeeded in tearing off a few pieces of meat, although they hadn't been able to eat any of it because they couldn't extract it from the e-suits.

The area had been the scene of a battle. Scorch marks on some of the trees. Pulp blasted away from the soft-bodied vegetation, and a green viscous liquid bleeding out. Several overhead branches were blackened.

"They were shooting up," said Nightingale.

They, gathered almost unconsciously into a circle, backs protected, and stared at the trees and the canopy.

"Man-eating squirrels?" said Andi.

Several shrubs were burnt-out. One tree down. But no corpses or other remains of large predators. "There's no sign of whatever did it."

"Okay," Biney said. "We're just setting down. We'll be there in a few minutes. You might want to head out. Forthwith."

"Can't leave the bodies. And we don't have enough muscle here to move them." Cookie was the only full-size male. Nightingale himself was barely as big as Andi, the smallest of the women.

"Okay. Wait for us. We'll be with you as soon as we can."

A couple more birds settled onto a branch. The ugly cardinals.

"You all right, Andi?" asked Nightingale, putting an arm around her.

"I've been better."

"I know. I'm sorry. He was a good guy."