by Hal Clement
It took several minutes, but they managed it with-out doing any more damage. In spite of the fluid pressure and constant motion, the Hunter had no trouble holding the heart punctures closed; he judged they would heal in a few days, barring fallout from the other problems, and told his host so. "But in the mean-time, don't do anything which might raise your blood pressure too much," he finished.
"Does that include standing up and walking?" Bob asked. "It seems to me I should get to the doc without waiting for someone to come home. Now that you're letting me look at things, I get the impression that someone ought to set this arm. Thanks for taking care of the sensation, by the way."
"Well, for once it wasn't your own carelessness," his companion replied. "I'm not strong enough to set your bones. Let's see what caused this fall, and then we'll walk, very slowly, to the doctor's."
The Hunter by this time had checked all his host's injuries. The blow which had knocked him unconscious seemed to have produced no real brain damage. His skull was intact, and while the Hunter never dared intrude in actual brain tissue except within the blood vessels of that organ, none of these seemed damaged and there had been no leakage of blood into the cerebrospinal fluid.
Bob found movement no more painful than before, and made his way to the bicycle. What had happened was fairly clear.
The front tire was cut to the rim; nothing else was visibly wrong. Bob summarized.
"Someone stretched a wire across the road about hub high. After I went into it, he removed the wire and skewered me, not necessarily in that order. That's clear enough. But I don't see why; it seems a little extreme for one of Andre's practical jokes-not the trip-wire, but the stabbing, wouldn't you say?"
The Hunter had to agree, though he had thought of the same child himself.
They could find no trace of where the wire had been attached, though there was no lack of possible places. The Hunter wondered whether any eleven year-old could have hidden his tracks so well, but kept the thought to himself. He could reach no conclusions except that someone was not very concerned with Bob's health-there was no way of being sure that the offender even had anything particular against the young engineer; he might have been merely a target of opportunity. The alien had not practiced his profession for several years, and began to wonder whether he was losing the touch. He should, he felt, have been sure of something.
Bob insisted, over his partner's objections, on wheeling the bicycle back to its shed before heading toward the Seever home-cum-hospital.
"If the folks come back before I do and find it in that shape, they'll go crazy," he pointed out. "You can just keep my heart plugged up a couple of minutes longer."
"It's not the time, but the pressure," the Hunter pointed out. "Remember, I wasn't strong enough to pull the skewer out by myself."
"I'll go slow," Bob promised, and with that his companion had to be content.
Actually the principal difficulty with the walk was provided by Bob's joints, which were still painful. They met no one on the way. It seemed likely that everyone on the island-perhaps even the setter of the trip wire, by this time-was out on the beach celebrating. It would be the same ten days later on Bastille Day, since French blood was as strong as American, on the island, and those who felt more Polynesian than anything else were perfectly willing to accept any excuse for a good time.
Unfortunately, there was no one at the Seevers' either, when they got there. Bob used the telephone, first to -notify the refinery of his accident and his whereabouts, then to call a few likely places for the doctor. It seemed rather probable that he and his family might be out on the reef, where people often partied or picnicked, but the store and the library seemed worth trying. Practically none of the island's private homes had telephones.
Before he made contact with anyone who could offer a useful suggestion, the door opened and Jenny entered. Neither she nor Bob actually asked, "What are you doing here?" but the question was plain on both faces. Bob and the Hunter had expected her to be out at the search area, and of course she had expected Bob to be at work.
"Wind's too high, and onshore," she answered the unasked question. "After all, we've had better luck with the weather than we've had any right to expect, so far."
Bob explained his own presence by displaying his left arm. The Hunter thought this would be poor judgment, but the girl had seen such things before in her father's office and took it quite calmly. She eyed the projecting bone for a moment and then said quite steadily, "You'd better sit down or lie down. Dad will have to set that; I suppose the Hunter has done everything else."
"I think so. Where is your father? I was phoning around for him."
"Down on the beach with a bucket of burn ointment. Fireworks day. Didn't you either remember or hear?"
"I didn't remember that aspect of it, and even with the Hunter this arm takes up a lot of my attention. Can you bring him back here, or should I go to him?"
"You stay put. I'll have him right back." The girl vanished again, without wasting time asking how the injury had occurred. She was back in ten minutes with her parents and Maeta, who had been with them. It was much later, however, before the story was told.
The doctor and the Hunter had to decide whether to use a local anesthetic, which would force the alien to withdraw from the arm, or let the Hunter block the sensory, nerves from the area. The latter would be better except that he was not sure he could handle the general crepitating-the grating of the bones as they were set, which would travel through much of the skeleton and be almost impossible to prevent Bob from feeling. Seever pointed out that a local injection would do little for this phenomenon either, and that it would be better for the Hunter to be on hand to take care of bleeding and infection. Seever would do his best not to let the bones grate.
The Hunter agreed to this. Bob had to serve as communication relay as his guest helped guide Seever's manipulation. Eventually, however, he was able to tell the story while the doctor worked on a cast for his arm.
Seever was quite indignant at not having been, told about the heart damage before working on the arm, but had to admit that the information would not have made him act at all differently.
Both girls thought of Andre immediately, and said so, but both admitted there was doubt. The trip-wire they would have credited to him without hesitation, but the stabbing was, as Bob had felt, a different matter.
"You didn't even see the wire, much less the person, did you?" asked Maeta.
"No," Bob answered. "All I actually saw was the cut tire, and the skewer after it was out of my chest. The Hunter heard footsteps while I was still out, but didn't see anything. At any rate it was no accident. Someone wanted to kill me-or, as the Hunter points out, wanted to kill someone. He may not have cared who."
"Maybe not,'? Pointed out the older girl, "but it was your handlebars that were loosened back there at the library." Bob had never discussed this matter with the others. He answered as he had to the Hunter.
"They weren’t loosened. They were turned slightly
and tightened in a different position." He filled in the other details.
"That couldn't have been an accident either," Mrs. Seever said.
"Right. If my bar had been loose, then maybe; but itwouldn't tighten in a different position on its own." "Then someone was trying to hurt you even then." "I can't see that. It was a silly way to try. Fifty to one I'd have been facing forward as I started and never fallen at all. Someone might have been trying to annoy me."
"Was Andre" there?" asked Jenny. "No. A bunch of kids collected to laugh, but he wasn't one of them."
"But you were inside the library, and your bike outside, for hours," Jenny pointed out. "He could have been there any time."
"So could anyone on the island except Maeta, who was writing things on file cards while I described books to her. I'm not worrying about that trick; it's something I could believe of any kid. What happened today is a different ballpark. A minor practical joke and a neck-breaking effort combi
ned with a stabbing just don't go together."
"I'm not so sure," the doctor said slowly. "These have one thing in common."
"What?" The Hunter's voice joined the others on their way in from Bob's eardrum.,
"In both cases, you faced the possibility of being injured or killed, but because of the Hunter you're essentially undamaged." Bob glanced at his arm and raised his eyebrows. "You know what I mean. The Hunter has been doing his job. Whoever pushed the skewer through you an hour or two ago is going to have a fascinating body of information to use when he sees you walking around later today. Couldn't both these tricks have been experiments? I can think of one person who might very well want to conduct some tests on you, Bob, now that you're back on Ell."
"Who?" asked the younger girl. The others were
silent. Seever’s meaning flashed on Bob and the Hunter at the same moment, and neither was surprised at the doctor's next question.
"Hunter, just how certain are you that the one you were chasing was actually destroyed in that fire?"
10. Joke Three
"It never occurred to me to doubt it," Bob relayed from the Hunter. "I'm sure I would have died under the same conditions. We saw him on the ground. Bob poured oil on and around him, and lighted it. 'The soil was packed hard, and contained enough moisture to make penetration a slow job."
"You tried it yourself?"
"Not at that spot," the alien had to admit, "but-"
"But you still feel sure," Seever interrupted Bob's relay. "All right, you may be-may have been- quite right. General experience carries weight no one can reasonably ignore, though I do wish you'd tested that soil on the spot and at the time. I also think we'd better learn more about the desChenes boy who was watching. It would be best if you could check him yourself, but pretty awkward to arrange. I'll try, but if you can make any suggestions-this sounds like our talk seven years ago, doesn't it?"
Bob admitted that it did, and brought the discussion back to order.
"I admit it would be worthwhile to find just what that young clown has been up to, and whether your suspicion could have any basis," he said. "We still have the search, though. What about that? It's too rough today, you said, Jen?"
"Yes,” the girl amplified, "even with a couple more paddlers we couldn't have held position long while Mae was down. It's going to be bad for another couple of days, we think."
"Hm." Bob frowned. "And we have less than half the planned area mapped. Well, I don't see what we can do-that's a pity; I should think this arm would get me off work for a week or two, and that would give us a lot of useful time. I wish those diving out-fits would come."
"We'd still need a boat to get out there, unless you're thinking of swimming a mile or so from North Beach, searching until you're worn out, and then swimming back," Maeta pointed out
"You could do it."
"No doubt, but I wouldn't. I'm sane. Not for anything short of life and death-I mean-" She fell silent, and a blush showed even on her dark skin. Bob laughed, genuinely and without bitterness.
"All right, Mae, I know this isn't like rescuing a drowning child. We all know the search is just a hope, and maybe not such a good one as I want to believe, and it would be silly for you to take too much risk. I feel bad enough about the chances you've already been taking. There are sharks there sometimes, and they're not always polite enough to show a fin as they approach. Tell me, could a power boat hold position out there with this wind and chop? If it could, we could send the Hunter down the way we did before."
"It would be all right as long as the engine held out," the girl said slowly. "I'd certainly be willing to take a minor chance like that, for something this important we might be able to borrow the Paukes' Vaevae, if they're not using it now. We'd have to go out by the channel; she draws too much for the passage by North Beach. I'll ask them if we can use her tomorrow, if you like. Are you sure you won't have to work? You still have one good arm."
"How about it, Doc? What's PFI policy in this situation?"
"Pretty tolerant," replied Seever. "If it weren't for the Hunter, you'd be in bed for a week, and certainly off work."
"If it weren't for the Hunter I'd be well on my way to being stiff by now. But never mind, and pardon the interruption; I know what you mean. Go on."
"Of course I can't report all your injuries, partly because they'd be unbelievable and the Hunter has made them improvable. The arm should be an excuse for a few days, though; I think you can count on some search time."
"If the weather doesn't get any worse," amended Jenny.
It didn't, though it got no better for several days. The Paukes were willing to lend their boat with the understanding that Maeta would be in charge of it, and for several more days the search went on.
By Wednesday the wind had dropped, and it was possible to use Maeta's outrigger again; Jenny had not yet gotten around to patching her kayak. On Thursday, Bob went back to regular working hours. On Saturday, July tenth, the girls detected a large mass of metal.
They were farther out now, and the water was deep enough to restrict Maeta's bottom activities even when she wore a weighted belt, so the operation had been slowing down. Morale, even for the quietly determined | Teroa girl, had been deteriorating. Jenny would probably have failed to come out several times if the possibility of Maeta's discovering the spaceship in her absence had not occurred to her.
They had another paddle, as Mrs. Seever had been helping for most of the week, but the work was getting more exhausting for the diver all the time. The detector could not be left unchecked for more than a very few minutes at a time; the bottom was so irregular that it was likely either to get tangled in coral or be so far from the mud as to be ineffective.
Consequently, when the strong signal came and had been carefully verified, they decided to stop and buoy the area and then, though it was still early in the afternoon, bring the canoe back to North Beach and get word to Bob and the Hunter. Jenny also mentioned the chance to fix her own kayak at last.
Part way down the road, she discovered that the brake of her bicycle was not working. It was a minor inconvenience, since the road was fairly level, but it caused all of them to think.
The group broke up at the Seever home-hospital. Mrs. Seever stayed there, Jenny went to the beach where her kayak was lying, and Maeta went out the causeway to the refinery to report to Bob and the Hunter. She found them easily enough, since no fuss was made about adults' going anywhere on the island, and her presence gave the two a strong suspicion why she was there; but there were too many people around for her to report details. It was nearly two hours before Bob could leave his station and walk back to the shore with her and hear the full report. She gave it as soon as they were more or less out of hearing from the group.
"There's a place about thirty-five feet long and ten wide where the detector buzzes when it's within a foot of the bottom," she started. "That's at the edges. It sounds off two or three feet up when it's near the center of the area."
"That sounds good," the Hunter answered through Bob. "The ship I was chasing was about twenty-five of your feet long and four in diameter-much larger than my own."
"It could also be one of those midget Japanese subs from the big war," Bob pointed out. "I never heard of their operating in this area, though. Old Toke has always said that his own secrecy measures back in the thirties, arranging for wrong 'corrections' to maritime charts and that sort of thing, kept them from sending a task force here to get the oil source. I'd doubt it myself. I know the published charts don't show Ell but I'd be very surprised if the navy of any major nation didn't know about the place. I just don't think we were a big enough target early in World War II handy as we were for our own folks. Anyway, even if a sub is a possibility, this has to be checked out. Thanks a lot, Mae."
"There won't be time today," Maeta pointed out,nodding toward the low sun. "It'll be dark almost as soon as we could get out there."
"That's all right. I'm off tomorrow anyway," Bob said happi
ly. "We'll let the Hunter down to feel it over and make sure, and then-well, he can tell us what sort of sign or note to make and leave down there for his people when they come back. Maybe he'll even be able to tell us when they're likely to come."
"You're very sure of that, aren't you, Bob?" the girl said softly.
"Of course. We're sure they've been here, from what happened to that generator shield you found."
"Couldn't the other one-the one the Hunter was chasing years ago-have done that?"
"You mean if the doc's right and he wasn't killed after all? I suppose so, but why should he?"
"Why should anyone else? The doctor asked that, and I don't think you gave him much of an answer. I agree with him that it's a very weak spot in your whole picture."
"Well, I agree with the Hunter. He knows his own people best, and who am I to argue with him? I feel like celebrating."
"You mean you will feel like celebrating if what we've found actually turns out to be one of the ships."
"Yes, of course. Right now, though, I just feel certain that it will be-it must be-and it's a darned good feeling."
"I can believe it must be. I just hope I never hear you say, in a belittling sort of tone, that wishful thinking is a feminine trait I wish I could feel as sure as you seem to."
"The Hunter calls it a human trait. Why not be human, Mae?"
In spite of the slightly pejorative remark which had just been attributed to him, the Hunter was sharing his host's feeling at the moment. He, too, felt un-reasonably sure that the object the girls had found would turn out to be one of the ships. He knew that there was an excellent chance that it was something else shed by Earth's metal-wasting culture, but fully expected, to be feeling around inside a more or less damaged faster-than-light flyer in another thirteen or fourteen hours.
