by Hal Clement
With the smooth plastic of the hull curving down on all sides, except aft, he felt a little tense, of course; but he had long ago learned to control himself even in high places. His nippers flashed from one holdfast to another as he made his way aft to the point where the few remaining refrigerator attachments were still intact. Two of these were the ones which extended entirely though the hull as electrical contacts, and were therefore, the ones which caused Dondragmer the most concern. The others, as he had hoped, were prying out of the cruiser’s skin like nails; but these last ones would have to be severed, and severed so they could be reconnected later on. Welding and soldering were arts which Dondragmer knew only in theory, but whatever substitute was to be used would certainly need a stub projecting from the hull as a starting point. The captain wanted to make particularly sure that the cutting was done far enough out to leave one.
The cutting itself, as he had already been told, would be no trouble with Mesklinite saws. He selected carefully the points where the cuts were to be made, and saw two of his sailors started on this task; he warned the rest to get out of the way when the bar was free. This meant not only down to the surface but well away from the hull; the idea was to lower the metal on the lock side, once it was detached, but Dondragmer was a cautious being where weights were concerned and knew that the bar might just possibly not wait to be lowered. Even a Mesklinite would regret being underneath when it descended from the top of the hull, feeble as Dhrawn’s gravity seemed to them.
All this had taken the best part of an hour. The captain was wondering about the progress of the foot party, but there was another part of the melting project to check first. He reentered the ship and sought the laboratory, where Borndender was readying a power unit to fit the makeshift resistor. Actually there was little to be done; polarized sockets, one at one end of the block and one at the other, would provide direct current if the bar could be gotten into the holes, and any changes needed to make a fit possible would have to be made on the bar rather than the power box. It took only a moment to make this clear to the captain, who looked for himself, decided the scientist was obviously right, and made his way hastily back to the bridge. Only when he got there and tried to call Benj did he realize that he had never removed his airsuit; talking to Borndender through it was one thing, but the radio was quite another. He stripped it off far enough to get his speaking-siphon into the open and spoke again.
“I’m back, Benj. Has anything happened to Stakendee?” He finished removing the suit while waiting for the answer, smoothed it, and stowed it close to the center hatchway. It didn’t belong there, but there wouldn’t be time to get it down to the rack by the main lock and return before Benj’s words.
“Nothing really important, as far as I can tell, Captain,” came the boy’s voice. “They’ve walked a long way, thought I can’t tell just how far — maybe three miles since you went, but that’s a guess. There has been no sign of either flier, and the only thing they, or I, have seen which might possibly have affected either of them has been an occasional patch of cloud a few hundred feet up — at least, that’s what Stak guesses; I can’t see well enough myself — drifting back toward the Kwembly. I suppose if you accidentally flew into a big cloud you might get disoriented and if it was low enough crash before you could straighten out; there aren’t any blind flying instruments on those things, are there? But it’s hard to believe they’d do such a thing — of course, if they were keeping their eyes on the ground instead of their flying — but none of the clouds we’ve seen so far is anywhere near big enough to give them time to lose their way, Stak says.”
Dondragmer was inclined to share this doubt about clouds being responsible — would have doubted it even had he not had reason for another opinion. An upward glance showed that no clouds had yet reached the Kwembly; the stars twinkled everywhere. Since Benj had said they were coming toward the cruiser, the ones Stakendee had seen must be at the edge of the pattern, and they must have been much farther to the west when the fliers were up. This might mean nothing as far as Kervenser was concerned — he could have been a long, long way from the Kwembly — but suggested that Reffel at least had not encountered them. He brought his attention back to Benj, who had not paused for a reply.
“Stak says the stream bed is going uphill noticeably, but he didn’t tell me how he knew — just that they’d gone up several feet since leaving the Kwembly.” Pressure change, Dondragmer assumed; it was always more noticeable in the suits. Just climbing around on the hull made a difference in suit tightness which could be felt. Besides, the stream which had carried cruiser here had been flowing fairly fast; even allowing for Dhrawn’s gravity, its fall must be fairly great. “The only other real change is the nature of the bottom. They’re well away from the cobbles. It’s mostly bare rock, with patches of ice in the hollows.”
“Good. Thank you, Benj. Have your weathermen come up with anything at all about the likelihood of another flood?”
The boy chuckled, though the sound meant little to the Mesklinite. “Nothing, I’m afraid. Dr. McDevitt just can’t be sure. Dr. Aucoin was complaining about it a little while ago, and my boos just cut loose. He said that it had taken men a couple of centuries to get where they could make a reliable ten-day forecast on Earth, with only one phase-varying component — water — and the whole planet accessible for measurement. Anyone who expected much in a couple of years for a world as big as Dhrawn which had been covered to the extent of about one back yard and had two phase-variables and a temperature range from fifty to over a thousand degrees Kelvin must still believe in magic. He said we were lucky the weather hadn’t produced ice fields that turned into swamps when the temperature dropped and rainstorms six feet deep with clear air underneath but icing up the cruise bridges and forty other things that his computer keeps coming up with every time he changes another variable. It was funny watching Dr. Aucoin try to calm him down. Usually it’s the other way around.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to hear it. You seem amused,” replied the captain. “Did you tell your chief about the clouds which Stakendee has reported?”
“Oh, certainly. I told everyone. That was only a few minutes ago, though, and they haven’t come back with anything yet. I really wouldn’t expect them to, Captain; there just isn’t enough detailed information from the surface for interpolation, let alone prognosis. There was one thing though; Dr. McDevitt was very interested in finding out how many feet Stak’s group had climbed, and he said that if the clouds they reported hadn’t reached the Kwembly yet he wanted to know as exactly as possible the time they do. I’m sorry; I should have reported that earlier.”
“it doesn’t matter,” replied Dondragmer,. “The sky is still clear here. I‘ll let you know the moment I see any clouds. Does this mean that he thinks another fog is coming, like the one which preceded the last flood?” In spire of his inborn defenses against worry, the captain waited out the next minute with some uneasiness.
“He didn’t say, and he wouldn’t. He’s been caught to wrong too many times. He won’t take the chance again, If I know him, unless it’s a matter of warning you against some very probably danger… wait. There’s something on Stak’s screen. Dondragmer’s many legs tensed under him. “Let me check… yes, all Stak’s men but one are in sight, and that one must be carrying the back end of the set because it’s still moving. There’s another light ahead. It’s brighter than the ones we’re carrying — at least, I think so, but I can’t really tell its distance. I’m not sure where Stak’s people have seen it yet — but they should have; you said your eyes are better than the pickups.
“Mother, do you want to get in on this? And should we call Barlennan? I’m keeping Don posted.
“Yes, Stak has seen it and his party has stopped moving. The light isn’t moving either. Stak has the sound volume up, but I can’t hear anything that means anything to me. They’ve put the transmitter down, and are fanning out in front of it; I can see all six of them now. The ground is nearly bare, onl
y an occasional patch of ice. No rocks. Now Stak’s men have put out their lights, and I can’t see anything except the new one. It’s getting brighter, but I guess it’s just the pickup cells reacting to the darker field. I can’t see anything around it; it looks a little foggy, if anything. Something has blocked it for a moment; no, it’s on again. I could see enough of a silhouette to be pretty sure it was one of the search party — he must have reared up to get a better look ahead. No I can hear some hooting, but isn’t not any words I know. I don’t see why… wait.
“Now Stak’s people are turning their lights back on. Two of them are coming back toward the set — they’re picking it up and bringing it forward toward the rest of the group. All the lights are well in front with them, so I can see pretty well now. There’s mist blowing past only a few feet — maybe a few inches — up; the new light is up in it a little way. I can’t judge its distance yet at all. The ground has no marks to help; just bare stone, with six Mesklinites flattened down against it, and their lights, and a dark line beyond them which might be different colored rock, or maybe a narrow stream slanting toward them from the far left and going out of sight to my right. Now I get a vague impression of motion around the new light. Maybe it’s around the running light of a helicopter — I don’t know how they’re arranged, or how high off the ground they are when the machine is parked, or how bright they are.
“Now it’s clearer… yes, there’s something moving. It’s coming toward us. Just a dark blob in the mist. It’s not carrying any light. If my guess at distance means anything, which it probably doesn’t, it’s about the same size as the Mesklinites. Maybe it’s Kervenser or Reffel—
“Yes. I’m almost sure it’s a Mesklinite, but still too far away for me to recognize. I’m not sure I’d know either of those two anyway. He’s crossing that line — it must be a stream; some liquid splashed up for a split second into the path of the light — now he’s only a few yards away, and the others are converging on him. They’re talking, but not loudly enough for me to make any of it out. The group is milling around, and I can’t recognize anyone. If they’d come a little closer, I’d ask them who’s there, but I suppose they’ll report pretty soon anyway, and I can’t make them hear through the airsuits unless they’re right beside the set. Now they’re all coming this way, and the bunch is opening out — two of them are right in front of the set; I suppose it’s Stakendee and the one who’s just—”
He was interrupted by a voice which originated beside him. It reach not only his ear, but three open microphones, and through them three different receivers on Dhrawn; and there it produced three very different results.
“Kabremm! Where have you been all these months?” cried Easy.
11
It really wasn’t quite Kabremm’s fault, though Barlennan was a long time forgiving him,. The transmitter had been away from the lights. When the newcomer had first joined Stakendee’s group he had not been able to see it; later he had failed to notice it; and not until he was within a foot or two did he recognize it. Even then he wasn’t worried greatly; human beings all looked alike to him, he assumed that his own people looked at least as indistinguishable to the humans, and while he would not have put himself deliberately in view, a sudden withdrawal, or any attempt to hide, would have been far more suspicious than staying calmly where he was.
When Easy’s voice erupted from the speaker with his name, it was obviously sixty-four seconds too late to do anything. Stakendee, whose reflex response to the sound was to reach for the shutter on the top of the vision set, realized in time that this would only make matters worse.
What they should do was far from obvious to either of them. Neither was an expert in intrigue, though Mesklin’s culture was no more innocent of political deceit than it was of the commercial variety. Neither was particularly quick-witted.
Kabremm, unlike Dondragmer, approved enthusiastically of the Esket project and of keeping it secret from the aliens. Even the Kwembly’s commander, a straightforward type who would be desirable for the Mesklinite group on Dhrawn to be as completely self-sustaining as [possible; Kabremm and Destigmet not only admitted it but regarded it as the most important of the problems facing the expedition. Barlennan, who had to use this as an excuse and to give the Esket’s crew responsibility for setting up the secret base.
Kabremm was, therefore, horrified at his slip, but utterly unable to think of anything to do about it — at least, anything not likely to conflict with what Barlennan was likely to do when the news reached him. He froze before the transmitter, wondering what would be his best line of action.
Barlennan, who also heard Easy’s cry, was in exactly the same situation. He hadn’t the slightest idea how or why Kabremm had wound up anywhere near the Kwembly, though the incident of Reffel’s communication cutoff had prepared him for something of the sort. Only one of the three dirigibles was employed on the regular shuttle run between the Esket site and the Settlement; the other were under Destigmet’s control and were usually exploring. Still, Dhrawn was large enough to make the presence of one of them in the Kwembly’s neighborhood a distinct surprise.
However, it seemed to have happened. It was simply bad luck, Barlennan assumed — compounded by the fact that probably the only human being in the universe who could possibly have recognized Kabremm by sight had been in a position to see him when the slip occurred.
So the human beings now knew that the Esket’s crew had not been obliterated. No provision had been made for such a discovery; no planned, rehearsed story existed which Barlennan could count on Kabremm’s using. Maybe Dondragmer would fill in — he could be counted on to do his best, no matter what he thought of the whole matter — but it was hard to see what he could do. The trouble was that Barlennan himself would have no idea what Dondragmer said, and would not know what to say himself when questions came, as they surely would, toward the Settlement. Probably the safest tactic was to claim utter ignorance, and ask honestly for as complete a report as possible from Dondragmer. The captain would at least keep Kabremm, who had obviously been playing the fool, from leaking the whole cask.
It was fortunate for Barlennan’s peace of mind that he did not realize where Kabremm had been met. Easy, a few seconds before her cry of recognition, had told him that Benj was reporting something from a Kwembly screen, or he would have assumed that Kabremm had inadvertently stepped into the field of view of an Esket communicator. He knew no details about the search party of Stakendee, and assumed the incident to be occurring at the Kwembly and not five miles away. The five miles was just as bad as five thousand, under the circumstances; communication between Mesklinites not within hooting range of each other had to go through the human linkage, and Dondragmer was in no better position to cover the slip than Barlennan himself. However, the Kwembly’s captain managed to do it, quite unintentionally.
He, too, had heard Easy’s exclamation, much more loudly than Barlennan in view of the woman’s position among the microphones. However, it had been little more than a distraction to him, for his mind was wholly taken up with some words Benj had uttered a few seconds before. In fact, he was so disturbed by them as to do something which everyone at all experience in Dhrawn-satellite communication had long learned not to do. He had interrupted, sending an urgent call of his own pulsing upward to the station while Benj was still taking.
“Please! Before you do anything else, tell me more about that liquid. I get the impression from what you’ve said that there is a stream flowing in the riverbed in view of Stakendee’s vision pickup. If that is the case, please send these orders immediately: Stak, with two men to carry the communicator, is to follow that stream upward immediately keeping you and through you me informed of its nature — particularly, is it growing any larger? The other three are to follow it down to find how close it comes to the Kwembly; when they have ascertained this they are to come in with the information at once. I’ll worry about whom you’ve found later on; I’m glad one of them has turned up. If this trickle is
the beginning of the next flood, we’ll have to stop everything else and get life-support equipment out of the ship and out of the valley. Please check, and get those orders to Stakendee at once!”
This request began to come in just as Easy finished her sentence and long before either Kabremm or Barlennan could have got a reply back to it./ Mersereau and Aucoin were still gone, so Benj had no hesitation about passing Dondragmer’s orders along; and Easy, after a second or two of thought, shelved the Kabremm question and reported the same information to Barlennan. If Don saw the situation as an emergency, she was willing to go along with his opini0n; he was on the scene. She did not take her eyes from the screen which showed Kabremm’s image, however; his presence still needed explanation. She, too, helped Barlennan unwittingly at this point.
After completing the relay of Dondragmer’s orders, she added a report of her own which clarified much for the commander.
“I don’t know how up to date you are, Barl; things have been happening rather suddenly. Don sent out a foot party with a communicator to look for Kervenser and Reffel. This was the group which is bothering Don so much, and at the same time ran into Kabremm. I don’t know how he got there, thousands of miles from the Esket, but we’ll get his story and relay it to you as soon as we can. I’ve sometimes wondered wheter he and any of the others were alive, but I never really hoped for it. I know the life-support equipment in the cruisers is supposed to be removable in case the vehicles had to be abandoned; but there was never any sign of anything being taken from the Esket. This will be useful news as well as pleasant; there must be some way for you people to live on at least some parts of Dhrawn without human equipment.”
