Double Contact

by James White

  “Look,” it said. “I can see a bird. Do you?”

  Murchison stared hard in the indicated direction. She thought she saw a tiny, fuzzy speck almost touching the horizon, but it could just as easily have been her imagination.

  “I can’t be sure.…” she began, and broke off to stare at the thick cylindrical member that was growing out of the top of Danalta’s head. “Now what are you doing?”

  “I’m maximizing my visual acuity,” it replied, “by positioning a lens of long focal length the required distance from my retina and making small focusing adjustments. Since the material is organic and the viewing base is moving perceptibly in the wind, some distortion is to be expected, but I’m sure that I can resolve the image to show…”

  “You mean you’re growing a telescope?” she broke in. “Dr. Danalta, you never cease to surprise me.”

  “Definitely some kind of bird,” it said—obviously pleased at the compliment—and went on, “with a small body; wide, narrow wings; and a triangular tail whose outer edges are uneven. At this distance the size is uncertain. It appears to be dark brown or grey in color and nonreflective. It has a short, thick neck but I cannot resolve any details of the head and there are no other body projections, so presumably its legs are folded for aerodynamic reasons. The wings do not appear to be beating and it seems to be soaring on the air currents. It is close to the horizon and shows no sign of dropping below it.

  “Birds did not evolve on my home planet,” it went on, “but I have studied the various species with a view to possible mimicry. So far, the general appearance and behavior of this one resembles that of a carrion-eater found on your own planet. At this range anything else I could tell you would be mostly guesswork.”

  “Let’s go back to the station,” said Murchison quietly. “I want to be there before sunset.”

  Danalta had spotted the planet’s first bird, she thought, as she climbed to the ground, and it seemed to be the equivalent of an outsized vulture, with all that that implied. It was silly to feel so disappointed just because this perfect-seeming world had shown its first imperfection.

  CHAPTER 14

  Captain Fletcher and Lieutenant Dodds were being extremely careful, Prilicla noted with approval, and displaying a level of vigilance that elevated caution to the status of a major art form. This time they were using Rhabwar’s pinnace, a vehicle normally used for evacuating space-wreck casualties whose condition was not serious enough to require litters, to move a variety of specially insulated test equipment to a more convenient distance from the investigation site. All of the analyzers had one or more backups, in case they probed a sensitive area and the alien ship killed the instrument stone-dead as it had done to Terragar’s sensors.

  Not for the first time the captain was reminding them that the test instruments and even the pinnace were expendable, but not the people using them, which was the reason why they were wearing insulated, self-powered space suits.

  Rhabwar maintained its distance with a communications channel open while they edged to a stop a few meters above the damaged area of the alien’s hull, then tethered their vehicle loosely to it with a simple magnetic pad attached to a nonconducting cable.

  “Sir,” the lieutenant said as they were exiting the vehicle, “Dr. Prilicla says that this damaged area of hull—what it calls the surface wound—has apparently become desensitized to outside stimuli and we can safely make contact there. But shouldn’t we check to make sure that other areas haven’t been affected by now, due to a power leakage or other deterioration in its sensor circuitry? I suggest making a few random tests. It might be that this metal carcass is dead by now and our precautions are wasting time.”

  “If it can be done without you killing yourself, Lieutenant,” said the captain, “then do it. You agree, Doctor?”

  “Yes,” said Prilicla. “That information would be helpful, friend Dodds. Especially if you can find another access hatch that is closer to the ship’s brain section. From here we’ll have to travel the internal walkways for more than half the length of the ship. But be very careful.”

  “Of course,” said Dodds. “This might be the only life I’ve got.”

  They watched as it positioned its powered suit a few meters from the hull and began the first slow, lateral circuit of the ship that became a spiral leading forward. Several times the lieutenant disappeared from view and Prilicla felt the captain’s controlled worrying, but Dodds was in sight when it made its find.

  “Sir,” it said excitedly, “I’ve found what could be a cargo loading hatch. It’s about ten meters in diameter, flush-fitting, and the joins are so fine I almost missed them. Inset is a two-foot rectangle, that looks as if it might give access to the actuator controls. Along one side there is a group of three recessed buttons, but I won’t touch them until I have some idea of what they do and, in case they’re booby-trapped in some way, the order in which they should be pressed. I’m moving closer with the sensor now. The magnetic pads are holding it to the hull. I’ve switched on. So far, no response from the ship.”

  The captain’s level of worrying peaked then began to subside. It didn’t speak.

  “I’m using minimum power on the sensor,” the lieutenant went on, “so the image I’m getting is by induction rather than direct contact with the underlying circuitry, and pretty vague. The wiring is complex, and active. To trace the leads to the three actuator buttons, I’ll need to clarify the picture by using a little more power.… Bloody hell, the ship just did a Terragar on it! I’m sorry, sir, we need another K-three-thirty sensor. This one just died.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Fletcher. “It’s expendable. You’re not. Continue your search aft, report anything you find, and then get back here and follow us inside. We’ll have to go in the long way.”

  To Prilicla it went on. “This vessel’s weapons system baffles me. So far there has been no sign of missile launchers, focused radiation projectors, or anything that might be an other-species equivalent. They could still be there and I just didn’t recognize them, but … I’m reminded of a porcupine.”

  Prilicla didn’t ask the obvious question because he knew it would be answered when the other’s thoughts stopped moving too fast for any possible verbal communication. They were inside the ship at the first junction of the netting walkways and turning in the direction of the control section before the other spoke.

  “It is a small, non-sapient Earth life-form,” the captain went on, “with a soft body that has no natural weapons of attack, but it possesses an overall covering of body-spines that are long and sharp enough to discourage predators. If that was the situation here, then killing Terragar’s operating systems could have been a mistaken act of self-defense because the aliens didn’t know our ship was simply trying to give assistance.”

  “A not entirely comforting theory, friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla. “It infers that there are other species, or perhaps other members of their own species, who wanted to attack it. Why? Do they consider it a threat of some kind, or their prey? Either way, they were able to inflict heat and blast damage. Remember, offensive weapons were used against this vessel.”

  “I know,” said the captain. It continued pulling itself along the netting for a moment before it added, “But I’m beginning to wonder about that, too.”

  It did not elaborate although its emotional radiation was characteristic of a mind engaged in intense cerebration. Dodds reported finding another large hatch, presumably used for loading fuel or cargo, close to the stern thrusters, then it rejoined them while they were still halfway along the central walkway and heading forward. There it was that a robot crew member—perhaps the same one, Prilicla suggested quietly, or maybe it was the only one—emerged from a side walkway and began pulling itself rapidly along the netting to meet them. It stopped about five meters from the captain, who was in the lead, and spread itself out starfish-fashion with its six hands gripping strands of the netting and barring their path towards the control section. />
  “The last time this happened, Doctor,” Fletcher said, “you were alone, you gave it a gentle push, and it moved back. Presumably the action was not meant as an obstruction so much as a warning to move carefully. Do you agree? I’ll try a very gentle push, with my feet. In case it tries to shock me, my boots have thicker insulation.”

  The captain moved close, spread out its hands to grasp the netting on both sides to stabilize itself, then very slowly and carefully brought its feet forward to stop a few inches from the center of the robot’s body. Its push was gentle to the point of imperceptibility.

  There was no response. It pushed a little harder, then with steadily increasing pressure, but the robot only clung more tightly to the netting without moving back an inch.

  “Friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla, “move back a little and let me past.”

  Without speaking but radiating puzzlement and impatience, the other did so and flattened itself against the netting while Prilicla’s pressure globe squeezed past. A few seconds later he touched the robot’s body gently. Immediately it released its grip on the netting and moved back slowly towards Control. Prilicla did likewise, but as soon as Fletcher and Dodds began to follow him, it barred the way again. The meaning of its action was plain.

  “Why will it allow you past and not us?” said the captain. “Does it think Earth-humans are stronger and more of a physical threat to it than a Cinrusskin? It’s right, of course. But I’ve made no threatening moves towards it or … I don’t understand this.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t like you, sir,” said Dodds, laughing nervously, “because your feet’s too big.”

  Fletcher ignored its lieutenant’s insubordination as well as the anxiety that had caused it, and said, “With respect, I don’t intend to wait here doing nothing while you and your robot friend socialize. Dodds and I will follow you to the next intersection, then we’ll try to find other walkways that will take us around to the control section. Earlier you suggested that our metal friend might be the only surviving crew member. If you’re right, then it can’t bar our movements and stay with you at the same time. Keep your communicator channel open at all times, Doctor, and have fun.”

  The robot hesitated in obvious indecision when the two officers turned onto a side walkway, although Prilicla could not detect the emotional radiation that should have accompanied it at such short range. But its movements were communicating feelings—someone or something else’s feelings—in a subtle form of body language that he could read. There was a tenuous wisp of emotional radiation in the area, much too faint to be readable, and he was now quite sure that this robot was a highly sophisticated construct of limited intelligence which was little more than the hands and eyes of an entity who, for reasons still to be discovered, could not move.

  But if he was being seen or his presence sensed in some other fashion through this robot, it or they might have their own reasons other than sheer physical size why they preferred the close approach of a Cinrusskin to that of Earth-humans. In which case it might even be possible, considering the robot crew member’s lack of hostility, that they wanted to make contact with him.

  That was why, when he reached the point of his previous closest approach to the control section when fatigue had forced his return to Rhabwar, he stopped to hang motionless with one hand holding lightly onto the netting. The robot did the same.

  For a moment he looked at the small, recessed panel with the three colored buttons, which was plainly the actuator for the nearby door, then with his free hand he reached forward very slowly to bring a digit to a stop one inch above each button in turn, then he withdrew the hand and used the same finger to point at the robot. He repeated the process several times before the crew member reacted. It moved back quickly the way they had come to stop at and block the nearest walkway intersection.

  Bitterly disappointed, he thought, Now it doesn’t want me here for some reason. Or did it? The background emotional radiation was still too tenuous for clear definition, but he could not feel anything that resembled strong rejection.

  “Friend Fletcher,” he said into the communicator, “I have a feeling that I may be about to make progress. But the robot, or the agency presently directing it, is uneasy and has placed it on guard at the entrance to the walkway you and friend Dodds are using. Our radio traffic must be detectable so they know that I’m talking to you although they won’t know what I’m saying. That will have to wait until we’re able to program our translation computer for their language, which will be a separate problem. But right now I want to reassure these people by appearing to give you orders which you will plainly be obeying without delay or question. Will you comply, friend Fletcher?”

  “What orders?” said the captain in a guarded voice.

  “To vacate the forward section of the ship,” said Prilicla, “and move back to the place where we came on board. We must make it plain that you are no longer investigating the control area. Please do that immediately.”

  “But temporarily,” said the captain firmly. “This ship is crammed with unique technology which includes a weapon that could threaten the peace and stability of the Federation. It has to be investigated.”

  “Of course, friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla, “but not right now.”

  “Very well,” the other replied, radiating equal levels of irritation, disappointment, and impatience. “I won’t promise not to look around back there, especially at the circuitry of the hull sensors. But don’t worry, we won’t do anything to worry your robot friend. And if you should get into trouble, Doctor, there’s something you should know.

  “From where we are now,” it went on before he could respond, “we have a clear view through the netting of a strongly supported, square-sectioned metal-walled passageway leading from the big forward hatch that Dodds found to Control. I’d say it was used to load bulk consumables or heavy equipment. Internally, the structure shows no sign of the circuitry that underlies the hull. So if you should need help quickly, we can cut a way into the passageway and get into Control by the back door. I don’t think a computer virus could travel up the flame of my cutting torch.

  “Keep this channel open, your recorders on at all times, and be careful,” the captain ended, its feeling of concern for him making it give unnecessary warnings. “We’re moving back now.”

  Prilicla watched as they withdrew towards the stern. When it was clear that they were not intending to double-back to Control, the robot moved back quickly to Prilicla and the actuator panel. This time he could sense no hesitancy in its body language, or that of its controller, as it began tapping keys. He was noting the colors and sequence for future reference when the forward wall became a large door that began sliding into a recess.

  When it was fully open, bright orange lighting units placed at two-meter intervals and recessed into what was presumably the ceiling came to life along the length of another passageway that stretched ahead for close to thirty meters to another intersection. All four surfaces were opaque, made either from metal or hardened plastic, and covered with netting where it was not interrupted by transparent access hatches. Deliberately he moved past them slowly so as to give his vision pickup and himself a chance to see what lay on the other side. Through one he had a foreshortened view of the passageway leading from control to the hull that Fletcher had mentioned earlier, but mostly there were only regimented tangles of color-coded wiring. He was sensing faint but definite feelings of uncertainty and impatience from somewhere.

  As he reached the intersection the robot remained clinging to the netting of the surface facing him. It made no move to guide him or block his way, so it seemed that the choice of direction was being left to him. Prilicla was aware of two distinct sources of emotional radiation, both of them organic. The robot followed him as he moved into the side passage on his right and towards the stronger of the two. The passage ended at another door and actuator panel.

  The source of emotional radiation strengthened almost to the level of readability
.

  CHAPTER 15

  Again he positioned his hand a few inches from the panel and, without actually touching the buttons, moved his index finger from one to the other in the same sequence the robot had used while opening the first door, then waited. Hopefully he was displaying intelligence and memory as well as asking permission to proceed.

  If the combination on this door was different, and it was booby-trapped and he was being allowed to make a mistake, then he might not survive the experience. The robot moved closer to him but it did not interfere. He pressed the buttons, the door slid open, and he moved slowly into the middle of another shorter, brightly lit passageway, then stopped.

  His emotional radiation was so confused that for a long moment he could scarcely analyze it himself.

  “Are you getting this?” he said finally.

  “Yes, Doctor,” Haslam’s voice replied from Rhabwar. It sounded excited. “But remember to—”

  “Getting what?” the captain’s voice broke in impatiently.

  “I don’t know, sir,” Haslam replied. “You’d have to see it for yourself. And Dr. Prilicla, please remember to move your head and your helmet vision pickup very slowly, and hold it steady on each area you are describing. In case of, well, accidents, that is very important if we’re to have sharp images for later study.”

  Prilicla was well aware of that fact, but perhaps the other was trying to reassure both itself and himself that he wouldn’t be speaking for posterity.

  He ignored the remark and went on. “As you can see, the surfaces of the walls, floor, and ceiling of this stretch contain more transparent hatches than there are opaque surfaces, and there is a major change in the configuration of the netting. It is no longer attached to the wall surfaces and has instead been replaced by what appears to be a light, open-lattice metal cylinder. It runs along the center of the passageway, is strongly supported at each end and, I would say, forms a convenient working position for crew members needing access to the systems behind the transparent hatches. Between the cylindrical net and the transparent hatches there isn’t much room for maneuvering…”