by Hal Clement
“It was Kabremm.” Dondragmer almost lost his grip on the holdfasts. “Kabremm? Destigmet’s first officer? Here? And a human being recognized him; it was your screen he was seen on?”
“It sounded that way, sir. He didn’t see our communicator until it was too late, and none of us thought for an instant that there was a chance of a human being telling one of us from another; at least, not between the time we recognized him ourselves and the time it was too late.”
“But what is he doing here? This planet has three times the area of Mesklin; there are plenty of other places to be. I knew the commander was going to hit shoals sooner or later playing this Esket trick on the human beings, but I certainly never thought he’d ground on such silly bad luck as this.”
“It’s not entirely chance, sir. Kabremm didn’t have time to tell us much. We took advantage of your order about exploring the stream to break up and get him out of sight of the communicator, but I understand this river has been giving trouble most of the night. There’s a buildup of ice five million or so cables downstream, not very far from the Esket, and a sort of ice river is flowing slowly into the hot lands. The Esket and the mines and the farms are right in its way.”
“Farms?”
“That’s what Destigmet calls them. Actually a Settlement with hydroponic tanks; a sort of oversized life-support rig that doesn’t have to balance as closely as the cruiser rigs do. Anyway, Destigmet sent out the Gwelf under Kabremm to explore upstream in the hope of finding out how bad the ice river was likely to get. They had grounded where we met them because of the fog; they could have flown over it easily enough, but they couldn’t have seen the river bed through it.”
“Then they must have arrived since the flood that brought us here; if they were examining the river bed they flew right over us. How could they possibly have missed our lights?”
“I don’t know, sir. If Kabremm told Stakendee, I didn’t hear him.” Dondragmer gave the rippling equivalent of a shrug. “Probably he did, and made it a point to stay out of reach of our human eyes. I suppose Kervenser and Reffel ran into the Gwe/f, and Reffel used his vision shutter to keep the dirigible from human sight; but I still don’t see why Kervenser, at least, didn’t come back to report.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know about any of that, either,” replied the sailor. “Then the river we’ve washed into must bend north, if it leads to the Esket area.” The other judged correctly that Dondragmer was merely thinking out loud, and made no comment. The captain pondered silently for another minute or two. “The big question is whether the commander heard it too, when the human — I suppose it was Mrs. Hoffman; she is about the only one that familiar with us — called out Kabremm’s name. If he did, he probably thought that someone had been careless back at the Esket, as I did. You heard her on your set and I heard her on mine, but that’s reasonable. They’re both Kwembly communicators, and probably all in one place up at the station. We don’t know, though, about their links with the Settlement. I’ve heard that all their communication gear is in one room, but it must be a big room and the different sets may not be very close together. Barl may or may not have heard her. “What it all shapes up to is that one human being has recognized an Esket crew member, not only alive long after they were supposed to be dead but five or six million cables from the place where they supposedly died. We don’t know how certain this human being was of the identification; certain enough to call Kabremm’s name aloud, perhaps not certain enough to spread the word among other humans without further checking. I gather they don’t like looking silly any more than we do. We don’t know whether Barlennan knows of the slip; worst of all, we can’t tell what he’s likely to answer when questions about it come his way. His safest and most probable line would be complete ignorance seasoned with shocked amazement, and I suppose he’ll realize that, but I certainly wish I could talk to him without having human beings along the corridor.”
“Wouldn’t your best line be ignorance too?” queried the sailor. “It would be,” the captain answered, “but I can’t get away with it. I’ve already told the humans your party was back, and I couldn’t convince them that nothing at all had happened on your trip. I’d like to make Mrs. Hoffman believe she made a mistake in identity and that you had met Reffel or Kervenser; but until we find at least one of them even that would be hard to organize. How did she recognize Kabremm? How does she recognize any of us? Color pattern and habitual leg stance, as you’d expect? Or what? “And furthermore, what did become of that pair? I suppose Reffel came on the Gwelf unexpectedly, and had to shutter his set to keep the humans from seeing it; in that case we should be back in touch before long. I wish he looked more like Kabremm. I might take a chance on claiming that it was Ref she’d seen. After all, the light was pretty bad, even for those seeing machines, as I picture the situation, only I don’t know what Barl is going to do. I don’t even know whether he heard her or not. That’s the sort of thing that’s been worrying me ever since this Esket trick was started; with all our long-distance communication going through the human station, coordination was bound to be difficult. If something like this happened, as it was always likely to, before we got our own communication systems developed and working, we wind up on a raft with no center-boards and breakers downwind.” He paused and thought briefly. “Did Kabremm make any arrangements with your group about further communication when we got the talking-box out of the way?”
“Not that I know of, sir. Your orders to break up and go different ways came before much was said.”
“All right. You carry on, and I’ll think of something.”
“All that ever worried me,” replied the sailor as he resumed chipping at the ice, “was what would happen when they did learn about what we were doing. I keep telling myself they wouldn’t really abandon us here; they don’t seem to be quite that firm, even on business deals; but they could as long as we don’t have space craft of our own.”
“It was something like that fear which caused the commander to start the whole project, as you know,” returned Dondragmer. “They seem to be well-intentioned beings, as dependable as their life-spans allow; personally I’d trust them as far as I would anyone. Still, they are different, and one is never quite sure what they will consider an adequate motive or excuse for some strange action. That’s why Barlennan wanted to get us self-supporting on this world as soon as possible and without their knowledge; some of them might have preferred to keep us dependent on them.”
“I know.”
“The mines were a long step, and the dirigibles were a triumph, but we’re a long, long way from being able to make do without the human energy-boxes; and I sometimes wonder if the commander realizes just how far beyond us those things really are. “But this talk isn’t solving problems. I have to talk to the humans again. I hope that not mentioning Kabremm at all won’t make them suspicious; at least it would be consistent with the mistaken-identity line, if we have to use it. Carry on, and give me a wave on the bridge when the main lock is clear.” The sailor gestured understanding-and-compliance, and Dondragmer at last got to the bridge. There was plenty to say to the human beings without mentioning Kabremm, and the captain began saying it as soon as he had doffed his air suit. “At least one of the helmsmen was under the hull for a while, and probably they both were, but I couldn’t find any trace of either one just now except work they had done trying to get out; at least, I can’t see any other reason for the work; it certainly wasn’t an assigned job. They wrecked, or nearly wrecked, two of the trucks in the process. Much of the space under there is still frozen up, and I’m afraid they’re probably in the ice. We’ll search more carefully, with lights, when the crew comes back and I can spare the men. The water, or whatever it was, that was boiled away by our heater made an ice layer on the hull which has sealed the main lock; we must get that back into service as quickly as possible. There is much equipment which can’t now be moved out if we have to abandon the Kwembly, and much which can’t be moved back inside if w
e don’t, because it won’t go through any other lock. “Also, the use of that heater caused the melting of about a body length of the radiator wire, and I don’t see how we are going to restore the refrigerator to service if we do get the Kwembly free. This may not be of immediate importance, but if we do get back into service we’d have to think twice about going very far into Low Alpha without refrigeration. One of the few things you people seem really sure of is that the low-pressure area is caused by high temperature, presumably from internal heat, and I know you set a very high priority on finding out about it. There is virtually no metal in the ship, and one of the few things I understand about that refrigerator is that its outside radiator must be an electrical conductor. Right?? The captain waited for his reply with some interest. He hoped that the technical problem would divert human interest from the whole question of Kabremm and the Esket; but he knew that this would not have worked if he himself were on the other end of the conversation. Of course, Benj Hoffman was young; but he was probably not the only person there. Benj answered; he didn’t seem much interested in technology. “If you think they’re in the ice, shouldn’t people get down there right away and look? They might still be alive in those suits, mightn’t they? You said a while ago that no one had ever found out, but that at least they wouldn’t suffocate. It seems to me that the longer you put off finding them, the less chance they have of living. Isn’t that the most important problem right now?” Easy’s voice broke in before Dondragmer could frame an answer; she seemed to be talking to her son as well as to the captain. “It’s not quite the most important. The Kwembly is synonymous with the lives of its entire crew, Benj. The captain is not being callous about his men. I know how you feel about your friend and it’s perfectly proper; but a person with responsibility has to think as well as feel.”
“I thought you were on my side.”
“I feel with you very strongly; but that doesn’t keep me from knowing the captain is right.”
“I suppose Barlennan would react the same way. Have you asked him what Dondragmer should do?”
“I haven’t asked him, but he knows the situation; if you don’t think so, there’s the microphone; give your side of it to him. Personally I don’t think he’d dream of overriding Dondragmer or any other cruiser captain in such a matter, when he himself isn’t on the scene.” There was a pause while Benj hunted for words to refute this claim; he was still young enough to think that there was something fundamentally inhuman about thinking more than one step ahead at a time. After ten seconds or so of silence, Dondragmer assumed that the station transmission was over and a reply was in order. “Mrs. Hoffman, I believe I recognized her voice, is quite right, Benj. I have not forgotten Beetchermarlf, any more than you have forgotten Takoorch, although it is obvious even to me that you are thinking less of him. It is simply that I have more lives to consider than theirs. I’m afraid I’ll have to leave any more discussion of it to her, right now. Would you please get some of your engineers thinking about the problem of my refrigerator? And you probably see Borndender climbing the hull with his sample; the report about the stream should come up in a few minutes. If Mr. McDevitt is still there, please have him stand by; if he has left for any reason, will you please have him come back?? The watchers had seen a climbing Mesklinite as the captain had said, though not even Easy had recognized Bomdender. Before Benj could say anything, McDevitt answered, “I’m still here, Captain. We’ll wait, and as soon as the analysis is here I’ll take it to the computer. If Borndender has any temperature and pressure readings to send along with his chemical information, they will be useful.” Benj was still unhappy, but even he could see that this was not the time for further interruption. Besides, his father had just entered the communication room, accompanied by Aucoin and Mersereau. Benj tactfully slid out of the seat in front of the bridge screen to make room for the planner, though he was too angry and upset to hope that his badly chosen words of the last few minutes would go unmentioned. He was not even relieved when Easy, in bringing the newcomers up to date, left the question of the missing helmsmen unmentioned. Her account was interrupted by Dondragmer’s voice. “Bomdender says that he has checked the density and boiling temperature of the liquid in the stream: it is about three eighths ammonia and five eighths water. He also says that the outside temperature is 71, the pressure 26.6 standard atmospheres, our standard, of course, and the wind a little north of west, 21 degrees to be more precise, at 120 cables per hour. A very light breeze. Will that suffice for your computer?”
“It will all help. I’m on my way,” replied McDevitt as he slid from his seat and headed toward the door. As he reached the exit he looked back thoughtfully, paused, and called, “Benj, I hate to pull you from the screens right now, but I think you’d better come with me for a while. You can check me on the input, then you can bring the preliminary run back to report to Dondragmer while I do the recheck.” Easy kept her approval to herself as Benj silently followed his superior. The approval was divided between McDevitt, for turning the youngster’s attention in a safer direction, and her son for showing more self-control than she had really expected. Aucoin paid no attention to the exchange; he was still trying to clarify his picture of the current state of affairs. “I take it that none of the missing personnel have turned up,” he said. “All right, I’ve been thinking it over. I assume that Barlennan has been brought up to date, as we agreed a few hours ago. Is there anything else which has happened, which he has been told about but I haven’t?” Easy looked up quickly, trying to catch evidence of resentment on the administrator’s face, but he seemed unaware that his words could possibly be interpreted as criticism. She thought quickly before answering. “Yes. Roughly three hours ago, Cavanaugh reported action on one of the Esket screens. He saw a couple of objects sliding or rolling across the floor of the laboratory from one side of the screen to the other. I started watching, but nothing has happened there since. “Then an hour or so later, the search party Don had out for the missing helicopters met a Mesklinite which we of course assumed at first to be one of the pilots; when he got close to the transmitter I recognized Kabremm, the first officer of the Esket.”
