by H. M. Hoover
It was her turn to frown. "Why would I do that?"
"We know nothing of each other," he said. "And few jokes seem as enduring as the manufacture of extra-
culinary cultures for gullible archaeologists and anthropologists to discover. If you knew how many mummies of little green men we are offered, how many fabulous artifacts are carefully manufactured for our benefit. For you to make such an extraordinary find with absolutely no training . . ." He suddenly stopped, and the only sound in the room came from the insects singing in the grass outside. "With no preconceived ideas to blind you"—the words were almost whispered to himself— "no knowledge to be ignored, no innate hostility toward strange animals. ... I want to see this place before dark!"
Of course they all had to see it immediately. The sun was beginning to make long shadows in the woods. A herd of nalas was feeding on the vines at the edge of the dome. They crashed away into the underbrush, panicked by this parade of chattering strangers.
Although she watched for them, she saw no lumpies anywhere and hoped none were in the old building. None were.
At the entrance to the halls, the staff let her lead the way. She was not sure if their deference was due to politeness, because it was her discovery, or timidity, since with the sun low the entrance looked like a very black cave.
"The ceiling glows a little when the lumpies are in here," she told them.
This caused the tolats to talk excitedly among themselves.
"There will be no bringing lumpies here against their will," Dr. Farr announced, and added with a look at the tolats, "just in case the idea occurred to you."
Only a few had electric torches on their belts, and the inspection tour was cursory. Lian led them perhaps a third of the way in. That took more than an hour because each open door had to be peered into and the unidentified contents discussed. One thing they decided immediately was that this hall been repeatedly flooded. Those few rooms they could enter were full of soil and
vegetable matter from which furniture and other artifacts protruded.
Scotty looked for and found written symbols everywhere. She greeted each new find with a yell of delight. "I was becoming afraid we'd find nothing," she told Lian, "that I had perhaps wasted three years. But it's wonderful! Marvelous! Intricate! Look at that doorway—see that sign? Isn't it beautiful?" And with that she hugged the girl out of sheer exuberance. "I can hardly wait to get in here tomorrow."
Like the professionals they were, they touched nothing, waiting for the time and tools to examine the site properly without risk of damage through haste. All were pleased and excited by what they saw, especially the artwork on the walls. The dome they would save for tomorrow. If a lumpie could not be persuaded to open the door, the tolats were sure they could bypass the switch.
Oncoming twilight drove them out into the woods again. As they walked back to camp, Lian noticed a subtle change in attitude. Before, almost no one had paid any attention to her. Now, to her great surprise, a tolat suggested she be made an honorary member of the expedition. All the other tolats gave their hissing version of three cheers, and the amalfis joined in. "We must sew expedition patches on your jacket sleeves," said Dr. Farr. "You've surely earned them."
But some of the human members of the group, once the first excitement of discovery had passed, seemed resentful and were none too discreet about showing their displeasure. "I find it hard to believe that your find was serendipitous," one man said. "I understand you've been on Balthor quite a while? Long enough to cover a lot of territory?" And a woman said, "I understand you fly alone a lot. This must have been one of your favorite camping places?"
"Why don't they believe I never saw this place until two days ago?" Lian asked Scotty.
"They don't want to," Scotty said. "You have to consider that this expedition includes five renowned
cxlraterrestrial archaeologists. Their grants and their reputations are based on what they find. You arrive, a complete amateur, and two days later announce a major discovery. You can't expect them all to appreciate your success."
Lian thought that over to see if she should be sympathetic. She decided she wasn't. "I'm not going to publish anything."
Scotty grinned. "Well, in that case," she said, "maybe they'll forgive you someday," and they both laughed.
From where Lian and the three lumpies sat, the tolats up on the dome looked like crabs dragging push brooms. Actually they were removing vegetation with long-handled vaporizers. Under the vines and a thin layer of soil, the tolats had found the dome was not frosted opaque but a transparent glassy substance.
On the north side a crew was preparing to wash off the glass. The airtrucks had carried up a pump and plastic bags full of water.
At dawn the tolats had rushed to the dome, confident they could get inside. But when they came back for breakfast, they reported they could not activate the gate switch or bypass it. After yesterday's accident there was no question of blasting through. Since the lumpies were nowhere to be found at that hour, the tolats had attacked the problem from the outside.
"Is central unit covered with shield?" one of the engineers had asked Lian at breakfast.
"It's a clear housing. Most of it—" was all she got to say before they started talking among themselves.
This dome was exciting them considerably, but they would not say why. That they thought it important was evident by their temporary lack of interest in what lay beneath it.
The rest of the staff was now mapping and photographing the halls and rooms below. Lian would have liked to be with them, but the lumpies created a problem. Like householders when workmen invade the home, the lumpies wanted to see what was going on—so long as Lian was there. The entire colony followed her everywhere she went, which admittedly did make for crowded hallways and difficulty in moving equipment and lighting.
After overhearing several derogatory remarks aimed at the gentle but curious creatures, Lian decided to go outside with them. Lumpies might not understand these languages, but she was almost certain they would pick up the ugly tone in them.
On her way out she was stopped by the photographer, who thanked her for leaving and spoiled it by adding, "To be honest, I—uh—well, some of us are upset by them. I'm sure you understand. They've always been fat dumb animals. Now we have to stop and remember they aren't. They're getting in my way. I mean, they look so stupid!"
"They don't!" said Lian, instantly angry. "How would you look gray, bald, a hundred pounds heavier, and naked? Would you like it if I looked at you then and said, 'Wow, a fat dumb animal'?"
"You don't understand," the man said. "I was trying to be polite, to explain—"
"No," said Lian. "You were trying to be forgiven for bigotry."
That exchange and what prompted it was still bothering her an hour later as she sat watching the tolats work. This complete dismissal of the lumpies from the beginning, when they had first been given their name, puzzled her.
Was it because they suggested a human, with their
big sad eyes, clown smile, and dumpy figure, that humans laughed at them? And if the humans laughed, then did that give other sentient species the freedom to express chauvinistic disdain for lumpies similar to the contempt they felt for humans but dared not express?
There was a definite comfort in the purity of astrophysics, she thought. There were no emotional elements. She suddenly understood more her parents' passion for their work. It shut out things like this ... it shut out the problems of normal life. And some of the joy.
Cuddles touched her shoulder and, when she glanced up, patted her cheek comfortingly and then pointed toward the dome. The push broom crew had finished, and the second crew had started the pump. A hose had been rigged in the already cleaned center so that water sprayed up like the horn of a trumpet and fell, to flush down the surface of the dome. That the water made the surface slick was obvious by the way the workers began to slide off it.
The airtrucks droned back and forth with dripping water bags han
ging from the hoists on both ends. Slowly red soil darkened to wet mud, then to a thick liquid that gravity flowed downward. The glassy surface below began to shine through. It appeared almost black and reflected the rainbows dancing in the spray overhead.
Cuddles and Poonie were having a long conversation, evidently discussing the dome, since they kept nodding in its direction. They got up, walked through the wet grass and mud, and tried to peer in. From past experience Lian suspected this was one-way glass—that one could see out of the dome but not into it. They touched the surface several times and appeared to be taking its temperature.
"I wonder," said Lian, and got to her feet. "Does that absorb radiation? Is that what powers the energy cells ... or part of them?" That would explain the tolats' interest. If the computer was still working, there had to be some reason why it was still working. If they
got electrocuted, again there had to be a reason. She joined the lumpies at dome's edge; the wet surface was icy cold.
Seeing her there, one of the tolats called, "It is (untranslatable). It could pass through star fire and not heat."
"But what is it?" she called back.
Whatever the tolat said consumed at least twenty sounds in its language. The translator converted his answer to "Beautiful!"
An airtruck lumbered in to land. As it sank down to unhook the heavy water bags, one struck a tree and ripped. The water dropped in one great splash upon the tolat, knocking him slat on his back.
Thrown off balance by the weight of the remaining water bag, the airtruck flipped up, came down hard on the weighted side, teetered precariously, and safely set down.
The whole incident took less than ten seconds. Poonie galloped toward the half-drowned tolat. Lian and the others followed. Lian was running, not to help the tolat, but because she was afraid that if Poonie touched the creature, its heavy claw arms would strike out in fear and hurt Poonie. Pausing to peer at the fallen tolat, Poonie looked like a small gray bear with an extra pair of arms. The tolat crew crouched to jump on Poonie. "Don't," yelled Lian. "He's a medic! Don't hurt him." And the tolats paused.
Poonie waved to the other two. They hurried around the still body and lifted it by the opposite side of the shell. Poonie splayed his fingers against the bottom shell, braced himself, and nodded. The other two gave the victim one quick bounce. There was a gurgling noise, and water poured out of the tolat's mouth. Its legs jerked convulsively as Poonie shoved. More water came, and a loud hissing word. Poonie nodded and backed away; his helpers lowered the body.
With a grunt the wet tolat flipped itself over, eyes whipped up to stare at the lumpies; then it pivoted on
its toes, said to its kind, "Engineers!", and scuttled back to work. From a tolat there was no higher praise.
Within the dome, control boards were lighting in a dozen auxiliary rooms; inactive terminals hummed to life as the power cells charged with sunlight. Here and there was a dry, twiglike snapping of ancient circuitry shorting out. In the dense liquid honeycomb beneath the blue floor thought flickered from cell to cell. The mind that was the Counter began to revive from its prolonged malnourishment and consider thoughts of survival other than its own.
In its weakened condition, to repel yesterday's attack on its outer hull had almost cost it its life. It remembered the alien Guardian coming in with the people; then pain had taken away all other awareness. Now it was alone again. The Counter called out to the people.
The lumpies were listening to something. Their faces had the rapt look of a cat watching invisibles. An airtruck came in to land. They paid no attention to it.
"Can you hear anything?" Lian called to the tolats. Their eyes went up. "It would be coming from the dome."
"Signals? Sounds?" They advanced at once and touched the glass with their foreclaws, feeling for vibrations. "No sound," came the report. One hurried off for an instrument of some sort and brought it over to the dome. After a few seconds the tolat gave an oddly joyous jump. "Cells charge!" it hissed jubilantly. "Cells charge!"
Oblivious to this, first Cuddles, then Poonie dropped to their feet and started off. The rest followed. Then, as if remembering something, Cuddles circled back and held out a hand to Lian. Seeing her leave with the lumpies, the tolats began gathering their equipment, preparing to follow.
The vines around the entrance had all been stripped away. The bank below was trampled flat and littered with equipment. The round door, too heavy to move, lay where she had first seen it. The air of peace was gone and the change saddened her. Lights had been strung in the halls. Staff members looked up in surprise as this procession of lumpies and tolats hurried by. One by one the archaeologists put down their work and came along.
As the gate slid up to reveal the interior of the dome, there was an excited hiss from the tolats and a soft "Wow!" from Lian. The polished roof turned the sky to pale green, the clouds deeper green, and trees fringed it all. The tolats barely glanced up before pushing past Lian and lumpies to hurry down the ramp. They circled the floor, their legs clacking as they jumped to see into each cubicle, where panels now glowed with light. Slowly the rest of the staff straggled in and joined the tolats in their exploration.
"Be careful of the open end of the computer," Lian warned them, and then remembered to whistle the response that shut off the bell tone.
"Which part?" said Dr. Farr.
"The far end."
A tolat made a hissing sound that could have been contempt. "This is all computer. That"—it pointed to the central unit—"in there"—it pointed to the cubicles lining the dome—"floor, roof, walls ... all one artificial mind. We think. Yes."
There was a blast of static that made Lian jump, a high-frequency whine, and thumping noises. The lumpies huddled together nervously, and everyone else froze where they were, not knowing what to expect. From the central speaker came a sound like a child chanting verse, swift and melodic; then the voice slowed and went lower in pitch and became almost a song. Several of the lumpies rose to listen, faces alert. There was nervous laughter from the humans.
"Be quiet!" Dr. Farr commanded. "Listen. It's speaking a language."
"Lis-son," the computer's voice slowly mimicked, and the intruders backed away from it
The faintest of screeches came from the computer. A panel was sliding open on its blank side to reveal a large display screen flickering to life. A spectrum of color bands crossed it in horizontal drift. Script flashed on the screen and was made jumpy by glitches. A melodic sound track came on at a very low volume.
The script dissolved to dark mist, and out of the mist came the picture of a solar system, its star much too red. Almost immediately the picture changed to something totally foreign—a geometric array of what could be dancing mold spores or flowers. But if it made no sense to Lian or the staff, it did to the lumpies. Either the picture or the sounds she had been dismissing as background music were pulling them closer to the screen. They clustered around her, sitting on the floor to watch.
After a moment Lian joined them and tried to clear her mind to truly hear, but there was too much distraction in the room. The tolats had gathered in a hissing clump. Several were recording this film. Some staff members were still exploring the walls, tapping the panels, trying to force them open. The lumpies paid attention only to the screen.
Since the rest of the film was unintelligible to all but the lumpies, what was the point of that opening shot? Lian wondered. Was it an acknowledgment of her and her interests, a gift from this mind to hers, like giving beetles to Buford?
As if in response to her thought, the screen went Hank, flickered, and then repeated the prologue shot of the dying star. The camera closed in on the ninth planet to show an encapsulated history of that world and its people. They saw the ancestors of the lumpies first as the creators, then the stewards, and finally the pampered wards of a technology so advanced that it could attempt to perpetuate both itself and its creators by assembling, over generations, a vast fleet of ships that left the orbit of their p
lanet and, one by one, like great searching eyes, disappeared into the darkness of space.
When the pictures again became abstract forms, there was restless movement and whispering among the research group. Then a tolat gave voice to the obvious. "This site is not city. It is starship. We are standing on control deck."
From their dust bath by the landing pad, wor-tles watched the shining aircar sit down. The hatch opened immediately, and the pilot stepped out—a tall woman in white wearing dark glasses like a mask. Just as her toe touched the ground, Buford hurried across the tarmac to meet her.
The pilot retracted the toe and from the bottom step called, "Hello? Is anyone here?" The worm's antennae quivered. Both pilot and craft had the thin, cold scent of high altitudes where no bugs sang. Like the wortles, the worm immediately lost interest.
When she saw the orange thing disappear into the tall grass, the pilot stepped down. "Hello?" she called again. Her tongue suggested a voice accustomed to immediate response. When none came, she strode up the main street, boots flashing in the sunlight.
A tolat who had been repairing the autoserver came out of the dining hall and stopped still, as surprised to see the visitor as she was to see it.
"You are a tolat!" There was relief in identification.
"You are human. Yes." The tolat walked over to stare at the large blue aircar, finding it of greater interest than its pilot.
"I'm looking for my daughter. Is she here?"
The word "daughter" meant nothing to the androgynous tolat. The words "Mount Balthor Observatory" on the side of the car did.
"Star watcher is with Tsri Farr.58
"And where would that be?"
The tolat pointed a gripper arm at the dig. "Down there."
The woman glanced at the distance between herself and the site. "Would you call them, please?"
"They are inside. Where intercom does not operate. Walk down." The pragmatic tolat returned to its work. It had answered all questions necessary.
This woman who thought nothing of traveling across light years of space in a metal container disliked the Idea of walking alone on this planet's surface. It made her feel vulnerable to be exposed to this bowl of open sky and to living creatures. If it were not for Lian . . . She began to walk.
