by Hal Clement
“Six thousand miles from where the Esket’s crew is supposed to have died?”
“Yes.”
“You told this to Barlennan?”
“Yes.”
“What was his comment?”
“Nothing specific. He acknowledged the whole report, but didn’t offer any theories.”
“He didn’t even ask you how sure you were of the identification? Or on what you based it?”
“No.”
“Well, if you don’t mind I’d like to. Just how did you know this Kabremm, and how certain are you that you were right?”
“I knew him, before the loss of the Esket, well enough to make it difficult to say what I went by; he’s simply distinctive, in color pattern, stance and walk, just as you and Ib and Boyd are.”
“The light was good enough for color pattern? It’s night down there.”
“There were lights near the set, though most of them were in front of it, in the field of view, and Kabremm was mostly backlighted.”
“Do you know the two missing men well enough to be certain it was neither of them; do you know that neither one looks much like Kabremm?” Easy flushed. “It certainly wasn’t Kervenser, Don’s officer. I’m afraid I don’t know Reffel well enough be sure; that possibility hadn’t occurred to me. I just saw the man, and called out his name pretty much by reflex. After that I couldn’t do much but make a report. The Settlement microphone was alive at the time, and Barlennan or whoever was on duty could hardly have helped hearing me.”
“Then there is a reasonable chance that Barlennan’s lack of comment was a polite attempt to avoid embarrassing you, to gloss over what may have seemed to him a silly mistake?”
“I suppose it’s possible.” Easy could not make herself sound anything but doubtful, but even she knew that her opinion was unlikely to be objective. “Then I think,” Aucoin said slowly and thoughtfully, “that I’d better talk to Barlennan myself. You say nothing more has happened at the Esket since Cavanaugh saw those objects rolling?”
“I haven’t seen anything. The bridge set, of course, is looking out into darkness, but the other three are lighted perfectly well and have shown no change except that one.”
“All right. Barlennan knows our language well enough, in my experience, so that I won’t need you to translate.”
“Oh, no; he’ll understand you. You mean you’d rather I left?”
“No, no, certainly not. In fact, it would be better if you listened and warned me if you thought there might be any misunderstanding developing.” Aucoin reached for the Settlement microphone switch, but glanced once more at Easy before closing it. “You don’t mind, do you, if I make sure of Barlennan’s opinion about your identification of Kabremm? I think our main problem is what to do about the Kwembly, but I’d like to settle that point too. After you have brought the matter up with him, I’d hate Barlennan to get the idea that we were trying to, well, censor anything, to phrase it the way Ib did at the meeting.” He turned away and sent his call toward Dhrawn. Barlennan was in the communicator chamber at the Settlement, so no time was lost reaching him. Aucoin identified himself, once he was sure the commander was at the other end, and began his speech. Easy, Ib, and Boyd found it annoyingly repetitious, but they had to admire the skill with which the planner emphasized his own ideas. Essentially, he was trying to forestall any suggestion that another vehicle be sent to the rescue of the Kwembly, without suggesting such a thing himself. It was a very difficult piece of language manipulation, even though the matter had been uppermost in Aucoin’s mind ever since the conference, so that while it was anything but an impromptu speech, it certainly had merit as a work of art, as Ib remarked later. He did mention Easy’s identification of Kabremm to the commander, but so fleetingly that she almost failed to recognize the item. He didn’t actually say that she must have been mistaken, but he was obviously attaching no importance to the incident. It was a pity, as Easy remarked later, that such polished eloquence was so completely wasted. Of course Aucoin had no more way of knowing than did the other human beings that the identification of Kabremm was Barlennan’s main current worry, that for two hours he had been concerned with nothing else. Faced with the imminent collapse of his complex scheme and, as he suddenly realized with embarrassment, having no ready alternative, he had employed those hours in furious and cogent thought. By the time Aucoin had called, Barlennan had the first steps of another plan. He was waiting so eagerly for a chance to put it into operation that he paid little attention to the planner’s beautifully selected words. When a pause came, Barlennan had his own speech ready, though it had remarkably little to do with what had just been said. The pause had not actually been meant as time for an answer; Aucoin had taken a moment to review mentally what he had covered and what should come next. Mersereau, however, caught him as he was about to resume talking. “That break was long enough to let Barlennan assume you had finished and wanted an answer,” he said. “Better wait. He’ll probably have started talking before whatever you were just going to say gets down there.” The administrator obediently waited; a convention was, after all, a convention. He was prepared to be sarcastic if Mersereau were wrong, but the Mesklinite commander?s voice came through on the scheduled second?closer to it than they would have been willing to bet, Ib and Easy thought later. “I’ve been thinking deeply ever since Mrs. Hoffman told me about Kabremm,” he said, “and I’ve been able to come up with only one theory. As you know, we’ve always had to carry in mind the possibility that there was an intelligent species here on Dhrawn. Your scientists were certain there was highly organized life even before the landing, because of the oxygen-rich air, they said. I know we haven’t run into anything but simple plants and practically microscopic animals, but the Esket had ventured farther into Low Alpha than any of the other cruisers, and conditions are different there; certainly the temperature is higher, and we don’t know how that may change other factors. “Until now, the chance that the Esket had met intelligent opposition was only one possibility, with no more to support it than any other idea we could dream up. However, as your own people have pointed out repeatedly, none of her crew could have lived this long without the cruiser’s support system or something like it. They certainly couldn’t have travelled from where the Esket still is, as far as we can tell, to Dondragmer’s neighborhood. It seems to me that Kabremm’s presence there is convincing evidence that Destigmet’s crew has encountered and been captured by natives of Dhrawn. I don’t know why Kabremm was free enough to meet that search party; maybe he escaped, but it’s hard to see how he would have dared to try under the circumstances. More likely they sent him deliberately to make contact. I wish very much that you’d pass this idea along to Dondragmer for his opinion, and have him find out what he can from Kabremm, if he is still available. You haven’t told me whether he was still with the search party or not. Will you do that?” Several pieces fell into place in Ib Hoffman’s mental jigsaw puzzle. His silent applause went unnoticed, even by Easy.
13: FACT IS STRANGE, FICTION CONVINCING
Barlennan was quite pleased with his speech. He had not told a single falsehood; the worst he could be accused of was fuzzy thinking. Unless some humans were already actively suspicious, there would be no reason for them not to pass on the “theory” to the Kwembly’s captain, thus telling him the line that Barlennan proposed to follow. Dondragmer could be trusted to play up properly, especially if the hint that Kabremm might not be available for further questioning were transmitted to him. It was too bad, in a way, to spring the “native menace” so long before he had meant to; it would have been much nicer to let the human beings invent it for themselves, but any plan which couldn’t be modified to suit new circumstances was a poor plan, Barlennan told himself. Aucoin was taken very much aback. He had personally had no doubt whatever that Easy was mistaken, since he had long ago written the Esket completely off, in his own mind, and Batlennan’s taking her opinion seriously had been a bad jolt. The administrator knew that Easy was
by far the best qualified person in the station to make such a recognition; he had not, however, expected the Mesklinites themselves to be aware of this. He blamed himself for not paying much more attention to the casual conversation between human observers (especially Easy) and the Mesklinites over the past few months. He had let himself get out of touch, a cardinal administrative sin. He could see no reason for denying Barlennan’s request, however. He glanced at the others. Easy and Mersereau were looking expectantly at him; the woman had her hand on the microphone selector in her chair arm as though about to call Dondragmer. Her husband had a half-smile on his face which puzzled Aucoin slightly for a moment, but as their eyes met Hoffman nodded as though he had been analyzing the Mesklinite’s theory and found it reasonable. The planner hesitated a moment longer, then spoke into his microphone. “We’ll do that right away, Commander.” He nodded to Easy, who promptly changed her selector switch and began talking. Benj returned just as she started, obviously bursting with information, but he restrained himself when he saw that a conversation with the Kwembly was already in progress. His father watched the boy as Easy relayed the Barlennan theory, and had some difficulty in concealing his amusement. It was so obvious that Benj was swallowing the idea whole. Well, he was young, and several of his elders seemed a bit uncritical too. “Barlennan wants your thoughts on this possibility, and especially any more information you may have obtained from Kabremm,” concluded Easy. “That’s all — no, wait.” Benj had caught her attention. “My son has come back from the aerology lab, and seems to have something for you.”
“Mr. McDevitt has made one run with the new measures added to the earlier data and is making a second now,” Benj said without preamble. “According to the first, he was right about the reason for the melting and freezing of your lake, and the nature of the clouds which Stakendee has encountered. The chances are better than even that condensation from these will increase, and make the stream near you bigger. He suggests that you check very carefully, as he mentioned before, the time the clouds reach the Kwembly. As he guessed, they are evaporating from adiabatic heating as the air carrying them comes down the ground slope. He says that the later they are in getting to you, the worse the flood will be when it does. I don’t see why myself, but that’s what the computer implies. He said to be sure to remind you that this was just another tentative calculation, just as likely to be wrong as any of the earlier ones. He went into a long speech about all the reasons he couldn’t be sure, but you’ve heard it already.” Dondragmer’s answer commenced almost on the light-echo; he could not have spent more than a second or two after the end of Benj’s report in deciding what to say. “Very well, Benj. Please tell Barlennan that his idea sounds reasonable, and at least fits in with the disappearance of my two fliers. I have had no opportunity to get information from Kabremm, if it really was he; I haven’t seen him. He hasn’t come back to the Kwembly. You could tell better than I whether he’s still with Stakendee and those who went upstream. I will take precautions on the assumption that the commander is right. If the idea had occurred to me earlier, I certainly would not have sent out practically my entire crew to set up the safety base at the side of the valley. “However, it may be just as well I did. I see no possibility of freeing the cruiser in any reasonable time, and if Mr. McDevitt is even moderately sure that another flood is on the way we’ll have to finish moving out shortly. If a current anything like the one that brought us here hits the Kwembly while she’s fastened down like this, there’ll be pieces of hull scattered for a million cables downstream. When my men come back we’ll take one more load of necessary equipment and abandon the ship for the time being. We’ll set up on the valley rim, and as soon as life-support equipment is running adequately there I’ll start sending crews back here to work on freeing the Kwembly, provided the flood isn’t obviously on the way. That’s a firm basic plan; I’ll work out details for covering the work crews with your assistance, and if Barlennan?s theory calls for special action I?ll take it, but I haven?t time to argue the basic decision. I can see moving lights to the north; I assume it?s my crew on the way back. I?ll turn the set so that you can see them.? The view on the screen wavered, then panned jerkily as the captain nudged the transmitter box through a third of a circle. The result was no improvement, from the human viewpoint; the lighted region around the Kwembly where details could not only be seen but compared and interpreted, was replaced by almost total darkness relieved by a few specks of light. It took close, careful watching to confirm Dondragmer’s claim that they were moving. Easy was about to ask that the lens be returned to its former position when Benj began talking. “You mean you’ve given up all hope of finding Beetchermarlf and Takoorch and the others, and are just going off and leaving them there? I know you have nearly a hundred other people to worry about, but there are times when that seems a pretty thin excuse for not even trying to rescue someone!” Easy was startled and rather dismayed at her son’s choice of words, and almost cut in with a combined rebuke to the boy and apology to Dondragmer. She hesitated, however, in the effort to find words which would do this without doing violence to her own feelings; these bore a strong resemblance to Benj’s. Aucoin and Mersereau had not followed the exchange at all closely, since both were concentrating on Barlennan on the other screen and Benj had uttered his tirade in Stennish. Ib Hoffman showed no expression which the casual observer could have translated, though Easy might have detected traces of amusement if she had been looking at him. McDevitt had just come in, but was too late to catch anything except Easy’s facial expression. The pause went overtime, so they waited for Dondragmer’s answer. This revealed no annoyance in tone or choice of words; Easy wished she could see him to judge his body attitude. “I haven’t given them up, Benj. The equipment we plan to take includes as many power units as possible, which means that men will have to go under the hull with lights to get as many of them as they can from the unfrozen trucks. Those men will also have orders to search the ice walls carefully for traces of the helmsmen. If they are found, men will be assigned to chip them out, and I will leave those men on the job until the last possible instant. However, I can’t justify putting the entire crew to work breaking ice until there is nothing else to be done to get the cruiser free. After all, it is perfectly possible that they discovered what was going on before the pond froze to the bottom, and were trapped while looking for a hole in the ice somewhere else in the pond.” Benj nodded, his face somewhat red; Easy spared him the need of composing a verbal apology. “Thanks, Captain,” she said. “We understand. We weren’t seriously accusing you of desertion; it was an unfortunate choice of words. Do you suppose you could aim the communicator back at the lighted space? We really can?t see anything recognizable the way it?s pointed now.? “Also,” McDevitt cut in without allowing a pause to develop at the end of Easy’s request, “even though you are planning to leave the Kwembly, do you suppose you could leave a power unit on board to run the lights, and lash the bridge communicator about where it is so we can see the hull? That would not only let us observe the flood if it comes, which I’m almost certain it will in the next three to fifteen hours, but would also give us a chance to tell you whether there was any use looking for the cruiser afterward, and possibly even where to look for it. I know that will leave you with only two communicators, but it seems to me that this would be worth it.” Again, Dondragmer appeared to make up his mind on the spot; his answer emerged from the speaker almost with the sixty-four-second bell. “Yes, we’ll do it that way. I would have had to leave light power anyway, since I wanted crews to come back for work; and as I said, I wanted some sort of safety communication with them. Your suggestion fits that perfectly. I’ve turned the set back to cover the starboard side, as you no doubt see. I must leave the bridge now; the crew will be back in a minute or two, and I want to assign duties to them as they arrive.” Again, Benj began talking without checking with anyone else. “Captain, if you’re still in hearing when this gets to you, will you wave or signal some way, or
have Beetch do it, if you find him alive? I won’t ask you to make a special trip back to the bridge to give details.” There was no answer. Presumably Dondragmer had suited up and gone outside the moment he finished speaking. There was nothing for the human beings to do but wait. Aucoin, with Easy’s assistance, had relayed Dondragmer’s answer to the Settlement, and received Barlennan’s acknowledgment. The commander asked that he be kept up to date as completely as possible on Kwembly matters, and especially on any ideas which Dondragmer might have. Aucoin agreed, asked Easy to relay the request to the captain, and was told that this would be done as soon as the latter reestablished contact. “All right,” nodded the planner. “At least, there’s been no mention so far of sending a rescue vehicle. We’ll leave well enough alone.”
“Personally,” retorted Easy, “I’d have dispatched the Kalliff or the Hoorsh hours ago, when they first froze in.”
“I know you would. I’m very thankful that your particular brand of ethics won’t let you suggest it to Barlennan over my objections. My only hope is that he won’t decide to suggest it himself, because every time I’ve had both of you really against me I’ve been talked down.” Easy looked at Aucoin, and then at the microphone, speculatively. Her husband decided that distraction was in order, and cut into the thickening silence with a question. “Alan, what do you think of that theory of Barlennan’s?” Aucoin frowned. He and Easy both knew perfectly well why Ib had interrupted, but the question itself was hard to ignore; and Easy, at least, recognized that the interruption itself was a good idea. “It’s a fascinating idea,” the planner said slowly, “but I can’t say that I think it very probable. Dhrawn is a huge planet, if it can be called a planet, and it seems funny, well, I don’t know whether it seems funnier that we’d have met intelligence so quickly or that only one of the cruisers has done so. There certainly isn’t a culture using electromagnetic energy; we’d have detected it when we first approached the place. A much lower one, well, how could they have done what seems to have been done to the Esket’s crew?”
