by Jack Vance
“Different proposition altogether,” said Avery. “The red and yellow come from plankton. This green is algae or moss or seaweed. No telling how thick it is. Might be a man could walk out on it and pasture his cows.”
“Lots of good grazing,” admitted Dart. “About four million square miles in sight from here. Probably the source of the planet’s oxygen. According to Bascomb, there’s no surface vegetation. Maybe lichens, a few shrubs and such…That sea-bed must be thick with humus…”
The speaker from the laboratory click-clicked. On the other wing of the bridge Captain Badt snapped, “Report!”
The code-sono opened the circuit; the voice of Jason the geologist said, “Here’s a full report on the atmosphere. Thirty-one per cent oxygen, eleven per cent helium, forty per cent nitrogen, ten per cent argon, four per cent CO2, the other four per cent inert. Substantially an Earth-type atmosphere.”
“Thank you,” said Captain Badt formally. “Off.”
He paced up and down the bridge frowning, his hands clasped behind his back.
“The old man’s in a hurry,” Avery said quietly to Dart. “I can read his mind. He doesn’t like survey duty, and he’s figuring that if he finds a good Class A planet, he can use it as an excuse to take off for Earth.”
Captain Badt marched stiffly back and forth, paused, went to the speaker. “Jason.”
“Yes, sir?”
“What’s the story on the geology so far?”
“I can’t tell much from this high, but the relief seems generally a product of igneous action rather than erosion. Naturally, that’s a guess.”
“A good ore planet, possibly?”
“At a guess, yes. There’s plenty of folding, lots of faults, not too much sediment. Where those mountains break up through the coastal strip, I’d expect schists, gneiss, broken rocks cemented with quartz and calcite.”
“Thank you.” Captain Badt went to the magniscreen, watched the landscape drift past. He turned to Avery. “I think we’ll dispense with further investigation and set down.”
The speaker click-clicked. “Report!” said Captain Badt.
It was Jason again. “I’ve located an extensive outcrop of radioactive ore, probably pitchblende or possibly carnotite. It shines like a searchlight when I drop the X-screen across the scope. It runs along the shore just south of the long inlet.”
“Thank you.” To Avery: “We’ll set down there.”
The reconnaissance party, consisting of Avery and Jason, walked along the black gravel pebbles of the shore. To their left, the ocean spread out to the horizon, a green velvety flat like a tremendous billiard table. To the right, black-shadowed gullies led back into the mountains—crag-crested barrens of rock. The sun was smaller and yellower than Sol; the light was wan, like Earth sunlight through a pall of smoke. Although the air had been certified breathable, the men wore head-domes, precautions against possibly dangerous bacteria or spores.
Through a pick-up TV eye mounted above Avery’s dome, Captain Badt watched from the ship. “Any insects, animal life of any sort?” he asked.
“Haven’t noticed any so far…That upholstered ocean should make a good home for bugs. Jason threw a stone out and it’s still sitting high and dry. I believe a man could walk out there with a pair of snowshoes.”
“What is that vegetation to your right?”
Avery paused, inspected the shrub. “Nothing very different from those around the ship. Just one of those paint-brush plants a little larger than the others. Country seems rather arid, in spite of this ocean. Takes rain to make good soil. Right, Jason?”
“Right.”
Captain Badt said, “After a while, we’ll check into the ocean. Right now I’m interested in that uranium reef. You should be almost on top of it.”
“I think it’s about a hundred yards ahead, a ledge of black rock. Yep, Jason’s detector is buzzing like mad…Jason says it’s pitchblende—uranium oxide.” He stopped short in his tracks.
“What’s the trouble?”
“There’s a swarm of lights over it. Flickering up and down like mosquitoes.”
Captain Badt focused the image on the screen. “Yes, I see them.”
“Might be some sort of fireflies,” hazarded Jason.
Avery took a few cautious steps forward, halted. One of the luminous spots darted up, sped toward him, swung around his head, circled Jason, returned to the uranium ledge.
Avery said uncertainly, “I guess they’re not dangerous. Some kind of bug, apparently.”
Captain Badt said, “Peculiar how they’re concentrated along that ledge. As if they’re feeding on the uranium, or like the feel of the radiation.”
“There’s nothing else nearby. No vegetation of any sort, so it must be the uranium.”
“I’ll send Bascomb out,” said Captain Badt. “He can investigate more closely.”
* * *
The node which originally discovered the planet settled on an outcrop of the uranium oxide and was presently joined by other nodes, fleeting in from less rewarding areas. The absorption of energy began; pressing against the massive blue-black rock, a node would generate sufficient heat to vaporize a quantity of the ore. Enveloping the gas, the node worked a complicated alchemy which released the latent energy. The node absorbed this energy, compacting and augmenting its structure, kinking its whorls of force into harder knots. At the same time it discharged a flood of energy into the lines to the rest of the unigen, and everywhere in the universe nodes shone with a new golden-green luster.
Insofar as surprise may be equated to witnessing events which have previously been dismissed as improbable, the unigen felt surprise when it sensed the approach of two creatures along the shore.
The unigen had observed living creatures on other worlds. Some of these were dangerous, like the mirror-metal energy-eaters swimming in the thick atmosphere of another uranium-rich planet. Others were unimportant as competition for food. These particular slow-moving creatures appeared harmless.
To investigate at close hand, the unigen sent out a node, and received a report of infra-red radiation, fluctuating electromagnetic fields.
“Harmless autochthones,” was the unigen’s summation. “Creatures living by chemical reaction at a low energy level, like the land-worms of Planet 11432. Useless as energy sources, incapable of damage to the hard energy of a node.”
Dismissing further consideration of the two creatures, the unigen absorbed itself with the uranium bank…Odd. On the surface of the ore had appeared what seemed to be a vegetable growth, a peppering of tiny spines rising from little flat collars. They had not been evident previously.
And here came another of the slow-moving creatures. This one, like the others, emitted infra-red radiation, several different weaker waves.
The creature halted, then slowly approached the ledge.
The unigen watched with mild curiosity. Precise visual definition was beyond its powers, so the land-worm’s movements came as blurs of shifting radiation.
It seemed to manipulate a metal object which glinted and reflected sunlight—evidently a bit of pitchblende which had attracted its attention.
The land-worm moved closer. It made a few blurred motions, and suddenly appeared to have extended one of its members. It moved once more, and a mesh of carbonaceous material fell around one of the nodes.
Interesting, thought the unigen. The land-worm evidently had been attracted by the glitter and motion. The action implied curiosity; was the creature more highly evolved than its structure indicated? Or possibly it sustained life by trapping small bright animals, such as phosphorescent jellyfish from the sea.
The land-worm drew the net close. To resolve the problem, the unigen permitted the node to be carried along.
A brittle shell of another carbon compound was cupped over the node and an enclosure effected.
Was this perhaps the land-worm’s organ of digestion? There appeared to be no digestive juice, no grinding or crushing action.
The
land-worm moved slightly away from the ledge and performed a series of mysterious gyrations. The unigen was puzzled.
Two metal needles entered the brittle cage. In sudden consternation the unigen sought to snap the node free.
* * *
Avery and Jason continued along the pitchblende ledge. Presently it dipped from sight, and the shore of black-gray pebbles slanted up from the green velvet ocean to the heavy shoulder of the mountain.
“Nothing out here, Captain,” said Avery. “Just looks like more shore and more mountains for ten or twenty miles.”
“Very well, you can return.” He added in a grumbling voice, “Bascomb’s on his way out to check on those flickering lights. He thinks they’re emanations, like will o’ the wisps.”
Avery winked at Jason, and cutting off the band to the ship said, “Bascomb won’t be satisfied till he has one of ’em pinned to a board like a butterfly.”
Jason held up a hand, signed Avery to listen. Avery switched back on the communication band, heard Bascomb’s precise voice.
“—from a distance of thirty feet, the spectroscope shows a uniform band, radiating at apparently equal intensity in all frequencies. This is curious. Normal phosphors emit in discrete bands. Perhaps some such occurrence like St. Elmo’s Fire is involved, though I confess I don’t quite understand—”
Captain Badt growled impatiently, “Are they alive or aren’t they?”
Bascomb’s voice was petulant. “I’ve no idea, I’m sure. After all, this is a strange planet. The word ‘life’ has a thousand interpretations. Incidentally, I note a very odd type of vegetation growing on the pitchblende itself.”
“Avery mentioned no vegetation,” said Captain Badt. “I questioned him specifically.”
Bascomb sniffed. “He could hardly have missed it. It’s a line of shoots about six inches tall. They’re like spikes, apparently stiff and crisp, rising from suckers clamped to the surface. Very similar to something I saw once on Martius Juvenal where a pitchblende vein breaks surface…It’s very peculiar. The roots seem to have drilled into the solid rock.”
“You’re the biologist,” said Captain Badt. “You ought to know.”
Bascomb’s voice took on a note of cheery assurance. “Well, we’ll see. I’ve read of emanations being observed near pitchblende deposits, but I have never observed them. Possibly the concentrated radioactivity might be acting on minute condensations of moisture…”
Captain Badt cleared his throat. “Very well, handle it your own way. Be careful and don’t stir them up; they might be dangerous in some way.”
Bascomb said, “I’ve brought along a net and specimen bottle. I planned to capture one of the motes and examine it under the microscope.”
“I suppose you know what you’re doing,” said Captain Badt in a tired voice.
“I’ve devoted my life to the study of extraterrestrial life,” replied Bascomb stiffly. “I rather imagine that these motes are analogous to the sparkle-ticks of Procyon B…Now, if I just adjust my net. There! I’ve got one. Into the specimen jar. My, how it shines! Can you see it, Captain?”
“Yes, I can see it. What’s it like under the microscope?”
“Hm…” Bascomb brought his pocket magnifier to bear. “There’s no resolution. I see a central concentration of fire; undoubtedly that’s where the insect is. I think I’ll pass an electric spark through the creature and kill it, and perhaps I can examine it under higher power.”
“Don’t stir ’em up—” began Captain Badt. The screen flared white in his face, went dark. “Bascomb! Bascomb!”
Captain Badt received no reply.
* * *
Destruction of a node sent a restless shiver through the unigen. A node represented an integral fraction of the unigen’s brain; it had been conditioned to modify a definite class of thoughts. When the node was destroyed, the thinking in the class was curtailed until another node could be produced and endowed with the same precise channels.
The implications of the event were further cause for anxiety. The metal energy-eaters on another planet used the same technique—a stream of electrons smashing across the center of the node, to upset the equilibrium. The result was a flash of released energy, which the metal ovoids were able to absorb. Apparently the land-worm had been surprised by the explosion and destroyed—possibly mistaking the node for some less energetic type of creature.
It might be wise, thought the unigen, to destroy the land-worms as soon as they appeared, and thus prevent further accidents.
Still another vexation: the spike-vegetation was spreading its collars across the surface of the ledge, sinking deep roots into the energy-stuff. Apparently it built the displaced material into the spike. When the unigen sent a node to absorb the leached uranium, it found a hard shell of inert substance, proof against the node’s kernel of heat.
Nodes flickered and quivered all over the universe as the unigen marshaled its computative abilities. Rigorous steps would have to be taken.
* * *
Far down the beach, Avery and Jason saw the white flash of the explosion, saw the black gullies light up in a ghastly swift glare. Then came a rolling sound and a jar of concussion.
Avery cut anxiously into the communication band. “Captain Badt, Avery calling. What’s happened?”
Captain Badt said harshly, “That fool Bascomb’s just blown himself up.”
“We’re up the beach about a mile, I think, from where the explosion came,” said Avery hurriedly. “Should we—”
Captain Badt interrupted. “Don’t do anything. Don’t touch anything. This is a strange planet, and it’s dangerous. Bascomb’s just proved that.”
“What did he do?”
“He apparently ran an electric current through one of those bright spots of light, and it went off in his face.”
Avery stopped short, looked warily up the shore. “We went past pretty closely and they didn’t bother us. It must be the electricity.”
“You be careful on your way back. I can’t afford to lose any more men. Keep out of the way of those lights.”
“Yes, sir,” said Avery. He motioned to Jason. “Let’s go. We’d better skirt the water as close as possible.”
Crowding the soggy verge of the ocean, they rounded the bend in the shoreline, approached the scene of the explosion.
“Doesn’t seem to be much left of Bascomb,” said Jason in a hushed voice.
“Not much crater either,” said Avery. “It’s a funny deal.”
“Look, now there’s thousands of those light-bugs. Like bees around a hive. And look at that stuff growing out of the ledge! That wasn’t there when we went past! Talk about mushrooms…”
Avery turned his binoculars along the ledge. “Probably it’s got something to do with the light-flecks. The lights could be spores or pollen or something of the sort.”
“Anything’s possible,” said Jason. “I’ve seen vines thirty miles long, as thick around as a house, and if you jab them with a stick they quiver their whole length. They’re on Antaeus. The kids in the Earth colony tap out Morse code back and forth to each other. The vine doesn’t like it, but there’s nothing it can do.”
Avery had been watching the dancing lights over his shoulder. “They’re like eyes watching us…Before a colony’s sent out here, these damn things will have to be destroyed. They’d be dangerous flying loose around electricity.”
Jason said, “Duck! Here comes a couple of them after us!”
Avery said in a nervous voice, “Don’t get excited, kid. They’re just drifting on the breeze.”
“Drifting, hell,” said Jason, and started to run for the ship.
* * *
The unigen observed the land-worms returning along the shore, evidently seeking the sea-matter on which they fed. To guard against the accidental destruction of any more nodes, it would be wise to destroy the creatures as they appeared, and clean them from this particular section of the planet.
It dispatched two nodes toward the la
nd-worms. They seemed to sense danger and broke into lumbering motion. The unigen accelerated the nodes; they darted forward at half-light speed, punctured the land-worms, reversed, shuttled back and forth a score of times, each time leaving a small steaming hole. The land-worms collapsed to the black pebbles, lay limp.
The unigen brought the nodes back to the uranium bank. Now to a more serious matter: the vegetation which was choking off the face of the uranium with its collars and roots.
The unigen concentrated the heat of twenty nodes on one of the spikes. A hole appeared, weakening the entire shoot. It sagged and shriveled, collapsed.
Pleasure was a quality which the structure of the unigen was incapable of expressing, the nearest approach being a calm coasting sense, an awareness of control and mastery of movement. In this state the unigen began a systematic attack on the spikes.
A second member fell over, became pale brown and a third…
Overhead appeared a flying object, similar to a land-worm except that it radiated more strongly in the infra-red.
Were the creatures everywhere?
* * *
Second Officer Dart had made the original suggestion, diffidently at first, half-expecting Captain Badt to freeze him with a stare the color of zinc. But Captain Badt stood like a statue looking into the blank magniscreen, still tuned to Avery’s band.
Dart said with somewhat more boldness, “So far we have no conclusive report to make. Is the planet habitable or not? If we leave now we haven’t proved anything.”
Captain Badt answered in a voice without resonance, “I can’t risk any more men.”
Dart rubbed at his bristling red hair. It occurred to him that Captain Badt was getting old.
“Those little lights are vicious,” Dart said emphatically. “We know that. They’ve killed three of our men. But we can handle them. An electric current blows ’em apart. Another thing, they’re like bees around a hive; they mind their own business unless they’re bothered. Bascomb, Avery, Jason—they got it because they approached that pitchblende ledge too closely. Here’s my idea, and I’ll take the risk of carrying it through. We knock together a light frame, string it with wire, and charge the strands alternately positive and negative. Then I’ll go up in the service ’copter and drift it across the ledge. They’re so thick now that we can’t help but knock out two-three hundred at a swipe.”
