The Long Sunset

by Jack McDevitt

  They changed into their own disheveled gear, and Arin took them across the road and down a path to the ocean, where a motor yacht waited at a small pier.

  They crossed a ramp onto the boat, which had an azure hull with a ladder and a white cabin and flying bridge. A rectangular blue pennant with a fish image flew above the cabin. They went inside. It was equipped with plumbing and a second set of controls. Arin was obviously showing it off. Humans weren’t the only ones with high tech. They sat down for a few minutes and he explained that the boat belonged to the temple. That they used it for various kinds of outings.

  Hutch caught enough of the conversation to realize she was making progress. But it was limited.

  Arin went outside and cast off the line. Then he returned, wished everyone good luck, and took over the controls. They headed out into the ocean and turned south.

  “He wasn’t on the beach when we went down,” said Ken. “He told me the other day that he had no idea where it happened. He talked to a number of people who claimed to have been there at the time, but their descriptions were all over the place.”

  They cruised along the coastline. The forest gave way to the beach and the usual crowd of sunbathers. Some waved, although Hutch doubted they could recognize her and Ken at that range. She concentrated on finding the tree cluster. At the time of the accident, she’d thought they’d be easy to recognize. One had been quite tall, with a bushy appearance, and the other two of average dimensions equally spaced on either side. Should have been simple. But it wasn’t.

  Two sets of trees fit the description, one on each side of the beach. “That’ll be the easy part,” said Ken, as they lined up with the northern cluster. “It’s the distance from the shore that’s tricky. I think we should be farther out. Maybe fifty meters or so.”

  Hutch didn’t agree. “I think we were considerably closer to the beach than that.”

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s go in closer and work our way out.”

  Arin appeared surprised that they didn’t know precisely where the lander had gone down, but he didn’t say anything.

  “I think,” said Hutch, “he expected a bit more from us.”

  • • •

  When they were satisfied with the location, Arin dropped anchor. Hutch was happy that the water was calm. She wasn’t excited at the prospect of diving to the bottom, but she couldn’t stay on the boat and watch the two guys do everything.

  Arin talked for a few seconds, and Ken translated. “He just wants to know where it is.”

  She and Ken used the ladder to ease themselves into the water. Arin dove in smoothly, barely making a splash. When Hutch went under, she was glad that the bottom was visible. It wasn’t especially clear, but in any case, the lander wasn’t there. They spread out. Arin, to no one’s surprise, was much more at home in the water than either of the humans.

  Hutch saw nothing. She surfaced, farther from the boat than she’d expected, took a deep breath, and went back under. She saw a few fish, and something dark moving across the bottom. But whatever it was, it didn’t seem to show any interest in her.

  She went wide around it and extended her search, with again no results. Finally, she returned to the boat. Ken came up as she reached the ladder. “Anything?” she asked.

  “No. No sign of it.”

  She climbed onto the deck and scanned the surface for Arin. Ken joined her. “Last time I saw him, he was back there,” he said, glancing aft. There was no sign of him anywhere.

  “Where is he?” she asked.

  Ken went back into the ocean. Hutch watched him head east, into deeper water. She wanted to get back in and help, but she had a problem: The swimsuit was a baggy monstrosity that kept getting in the way. Finally, she climbed out of it and dived into the water. She stayed under for about a minute but saw nothing. She went back up for air.

  It was taking too long. She dove, rose again, dove again, looking desperately in all directions. Where the hell are you, Arin? Finally, she returned to the yacht. Ken was on board. As she approached the ladder, Arin surfaced in the distance. Ken waved in her direction and then apparently saw her clothes lying in a pile on the deck. He turned his back while she climbed the ladder and got dressed. “You’re one of the great men of our time, Ken,” she said.

  Arin took his time coming in. If he’d noticed Hutch’s clothing issue, he gave no indication. “Where’ve you been?” Hutch said when he finally arrived. “I thought you’d drowned.”

  Momentary confusion filled Arin’s eyes and then mutated into a broad smile. He tried to explain.

  “He says he didn’t realize we were air-breathers.”

  “Ken, he’s an air-breather.”

  “He has gills, too. I guess. He says he can breathe in the water.”

  “Great.” Hutch looked sternly at Arin. “It would have been nice if you’d mentioned that to us.”

  “I don’t think he realized we couldn’t do it too.”

  • • •

  They corrected their position, lining up with the other group of trees, which Hutch now recognized. There was a broken branch near the top of the one in the middle. She’d forgotten. They found the lander within a few minutes. It lay on its side, barely visible in the opaque light. “So why are we going to all this trouble?” Hutch asked. “Can you guys recover this thing?”

  Again, she got the giant smile. Hutch scanned for damage. The drive units looked okay, as did the skids, the wings, and the antigravs. One of the antennas was bent, but they could fix that easily enough. If the cabin hadn’t filled with water, they should be all right.

  When she was satisfied, they returned to the boat. Ken explained to Arin that everything looked good, as far as they could tell. Arin happily waved his left arm in the air. He went into the cabin and came back with a shirt. He approached Hutch and held it near her face, apparently measuring something. He made marks on it and thanked her. He returned the shirt to the cabin, came back out, opened a storage locker, and removed a buoy. He attached a small anchor to it and put it over the side.

  “What was the shirt all about?” asked Hutch.

  Ken asked Arin but apparently couldn’t understand the explanation.

  26.

  I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.

  —Herman Melville, Moby-Dick, 1851

  Hutch, you awake yet?” It was Beth’s voice.

  “I guess,” she said. “Something wrong?”

  “Arin’s here. He wants to take us to the beach.”

  “This early? Why?”

  “I don’t think it’s actually early. We had breakfast a while ago. But I don’t know what it’s about. He’s telling Ken there’s something we’d want to see.”

  “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  She should have asked whether they were wearing the bathing suits. But how else would you dress if you were headed for the beach? When she got downstairs, everybody was waiting for her, including Kwylla. But apparently, no one else was planning on going in the water. She excused herself, hurried back to her room, and changed.

  When she returned, Kwylla handed her a couple of buns to stave off her appetite. Then she followed everybody outside. Arin had, somewhere, picked up a second car. He would drive one; Kwylla got behind the wheel of the other. “What’s happening at the beach?” she asked.

  Ken shrugged. He got into Kwylla’s car, and Hutch joined him. “It feels,” he said, “as if we’re headed for a party, but I don’t think Arin would normally throw one of those on a beach. But if it helps, time’s an issue.”

  The weather had cooled. A brisk wind was blowing in off the sea, and a few gray clouds drifted through the sky. The vehicles rolled away.

  There was a lot of traffic on the road, cars and small trucks, all going the same direction, which was unusual. When they arrived, some vehicles had pulled over under the trees, but most of them, to her surprise, were in the middle of the beach, circling each other, apparently looking for parking places. I
t was the first time she’d seen anyone take a car out there. A few locals were pointing, sending vehicles in different directions, moving them into various positions. Kwylla looked for a place to park, couldn’t find one, and indicated she’d continue along the road. Ken and Hutch climbed out.

  Beth and Derek were waiting. Hutch needed a minute to locate Arin, who was still behind the wheel. One of the Volarians was waving him into the rear of a line of parked cars. There were about seventy vehicles on the sand, in what appeared to be a meaningless arrangement of straight and angled lines. Some sunbathers were in the area, but they were being kept at a distance.

  As more of the cars and trucks fell into place, Hutch realized what was going on at about the same time she overheard Beth telling her husband, “Use your imagination. Look at it from the sky.”

  From above, the pattern of vehicles could be read: BK IN 3 WKS

  • • •

  It was a good idea. But there was a problem. On this mission, it seemed, there was always a problem. There were a lot of clouds. Wally might not be able to see the island, let alone the message.

  Arin got out of his car with obvious frustration. He talked with a couple of the Volarians who were directing traffic and then, staring at the sky, joined the humans. He signaled for patience, but it was clear he wasn’t taking his own advice. The sky was becoming increasingly overcast.

  Kwylla arrived a few minutes later and tried to calm him. But he only shook his head and said something to her that produced a weak smile. A light rain began to fall. Three of the guys who’d been directing traffic were standing nearby. Arin grumbled something and walked over. The conversation became tense, but as the rain thickened, they came to a decision. He and the others spread out among the cars and talked to the drivers. The cars began to leave.

  “Ken,” said Hutch, “thank Arin for us, and ask him to pass our appreciation on to the people who came out here today.”

  “I will,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

  Arin came back and talked briefly with Ken. Then Ken gave them the good news: “They’re going to try again tomorrow.”

  • • •

  The skies were clear for the second attempt. Drivers arrived early and lined up as they had the day before. Arin and his associates charged around, straightening everything, moving cars slightly more left or right, and finally withdrawing with a look of satisfaction. Then the waiting began.

  Ken hadn’t yet settled with Arin on a way to measure time, other than explaining in general terms that something wouldn’t take long. They knew, of course, that Arin had the time down, that he’d recorded the schedule of the Eiferman’s arrivals and departures. So they weren’t entirely surprised when, after everything was in place, he told Ken it would take “a quarter of an orbit” before the ship made its way above the horizon.

  Hutch accepted an invitation from one of the drivers to get into his car and out of the sun. They made an attempt at conversation, but it failed and she wasn’t entirely surprised when he said something to her and left. She didn’t want to offend him, so she stayed where she was.

  Eventually, Arin checked the timepiece he’d brought with him and told everyone that they should see the “vehicle” shortly. Minutes after that, it rose out of the ocean. They watched it approach, and hundreds of them waved and shouted as it passed overhead.

  • • •

  Hutch and Beth returned regularly to the beach. The crowd that had overwhelmed them during the first few days turned into occasional individuals smiling at them and saying hello almost as often in English as in the local usage. “They’re getting used to us,” Beth said.

  Hutch tried to pick up whatever she could of the language. If they could get down words like underwater and hello and food, it would help. But she couldn’t even reproduce some of the sounds she was hearing. She was struck, however, at how friendly the creatures remained. How would a group of humans in Atlantic City have reacted if a UFO had crashed close to shore, and minutes later a group of strange-looking creatures came out of the water?

  “I can’t help thinking,” she told Beth, “I’d almost prefer not to learn the language.”

  “Why’s that, Hutch?”

  “Because at some point, we are going to have to communicate with them.”

  “And tell them about the black hole?”

  “That’s the problem, isn’t it? There’s no happy ending here. And what happens to their lives if they find out? I’m not sure it would be a good idea to say anything.”

  • • •

  Arin tried to explain his plan to help them recover the lander by drawing pictures of two carts. Each had a line attached to it. It was reasonably clear by then that he hoped to lift the lander off the bottom, and everybody’s best guess was that they had a freighter somewhere with a crane. The problem with that idea was that the water wouldn’t be deep enough for a heavy ship. So maybe they were planning on using two smaller vessels. In any case, he was clearly planning something. And the fact that he had a plan made it easier for Hutch, and probably everyone, to sleep.

  Ken spent several hours each day with Arin, and additional time with Kwylla, working on the language. They were all picking up some of it. They learned to say hello and good-bye, ask for fruit juice, and pay Kwylla compliments on her clothing. Meanwhile, Arin expanded his artwork, attaching a not-very-accurate impression of the lander to the cords.

  Derek grew restless. They continued getting assurances from Arin. “Help is coming,” he told Ken repeatedly. But the explanations broke down.

  Days on Volaria were probably about two hours shorter than on Earth. So there were issues with the sleep cycle at first, but everyone adjusted. They were well into their third week, on a day filled with high winds and torrential rain. And they all seemed tired. They were still gathering on the porch every night to watch what they’d begun to call the passover. And Wally moved faithfully through the sky. But their energy levels were declining. They didn’t talk about it when Kwylla or Arin were present, because they knew there was nothing they could do. But when they were alone, as they were on that windy, rain-swept evening, the subject tended to take over the conversation. “I’m wiped out,” Ken was saying as Hutch got some fresh fruit out of the refrigerator. They hadn’t been doing anything that would have caused physical exertion, but it didn’t seem to matter.

  Derek leaned back in his chair. “I can understand it,” he said. “There’s a lot of stress right now.” He looked over at Beth, who was eating white peels. “What do you think, Doc?”

  “The stress doesn’t help. I suspect the real problem is that we’re not getting enough meatloaf and broccoli.” She tried unsuccessfully to conceal her concern. They were all worried, but food was a secondary factor. They’d pretty much run through their three weeks, and there was no guarantee Wally would stay when the time ran out and nothing had happened.

  “You guys okay?” Hutch asked.

  Derek’s laser gaze locked on her. “Ask me that when we get home.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “I guess I’m the reason we’re stuck here.” The porch fell silent.

  “I wasn’t talking about that,” Derek said. “You did what you had to.”

  “It’s okay.” She knew she’d done nothing wrong, would change nothing if she were put in that position again. Nevertheless, she was shadowed by a sense of guilt. She was the captain; she’d been at the controls. Somehow, things should have been managed differently. She could probably have gone down on the beach without hurting anyone. Or maybe even made it into the trees.

  “You know,” said Beth, “it’s true. Feeling tired is one of the early signs of not eating properly. So’s being cranky.”

  “That’s a bit scary,” said Hutch. “How long does it take before we have a serious problem?”

  “I don’t know how much nutrition we’re getting. And to be honest, I don’t know much about starvation. I’ve never had to deal with it. But if you’re not taking in any decent food at all, the symptoms c
an show up pretty quickly. We’re getting some nutrition. And we’re filling our stomachs, so we don’t feel hungry. But I suspect we’re missing some of what we need.”

  “Heads up,” said Ken. “Here comes Arin.” Kwylla was with him.

  “That’s all we need,” said Derek. “I hate to admit this, but I’m getting tired trying to learn Volarian. I was never good at foreign languages, and this one just drives me crazy.”

  “He’s got a box.” Ken got out of his chair and offered it to Kwylla. She thanked him and sat.

  Their faces were alight with good news. They were both making the creaking floorboard sounds, which was their way of delivering an energetic hello when life was good. Arin said, “Hello.” And continued in English: “We are ready to go after the lander.”

  The box was wooden, small, about the size of a loaf of bread. He put it on the floor and sat down on the sofa. Then he opened it. And removed something that looked like an oxygen mask!

  They all stared while he and Kwylla sat grinning. Arin picked up the mask and held it out for Hutch.

  She took it and held it against her face. It was a decent fit. And she realized why, when they were on the boat, Arin had used a shirt to measure her skull. “Why?” she looked at him. “We know where the lander is. You don’t think I can make the repairs underwater, I hope?”

  Ken passed the question to Arin, who responded on his own: “We must know where to connect the lines. Need you to show us. Be safe.”

  “All right,” she said. “Is there an oxygen tank to go with this?”

  “Yes,” said Arin. He took the mask back.

  “When do we do this?”

  Kwylla smiled and surprised everyone: “Two days.” She held her hands out, in a nonverbal cue that Hutch associated with preachers. Have faith.

  • • •

  “At last,” Derek said after Kwylla and Arin had left.

  “I’m surprised,” said Hutch, “that they have oxygen masks. What use would they have for them?”