“Haven’t a clue. Oh, it’s something medical, we all know that much. But a world like this must be healthy. This Lord Tarlton of Dunwich, he used to be the physician on the planet of that name, although then he was plain Dr. Tarlton. He was the head of their College of Medicine, and we all know how highly a Dunwich degree is regarded throughout the Galaxy. As a diagnostician, he was a recognized genius. It seems incredible that he should be incapable of handling this emergency, whatever it is. What do you think, Kravisky? As a doctor, I mean.”
“I think the same as you do, sir.”
“And these others . . . I’ve been doing my homework in the microfiled Encyclopedia Galactica Year Books. Baron Takada. A multimillionaire on his planet of birth, Kobe. Flew the coop when the local income tax collectors got too avaricious. But known as much for his metaphysical researches as for his wealth. Hereditary Chief Lobenga, onetime native, and ruler, of New Katanga. Stinking rich, of course, but made his own world too hot to hold him by his dabbling in the more unsavory varieties of black magic.”
“And the Princess?” asked Grimes.
Griffin chuckled. “She seems to have made quite an impression on you. Just a spoiled popsy from Thuringia. Too much money and didn’t like to have to plough any of it back into the welfare of the miners and factory hands. Sold out at a pretty profit and bought her way into the El Dorado Corporation. De Messigny? Not even a millionaire but had a name as a space yachtsman and freelance explorer. I suppose that these people wanted somebody who was more or less their breed of cat to captain their merchant ships.”
“All these titles . . .” said Kravisky.
“Fair dinkum, most of ‘em. I often think that all these stories about effete aristocrats are put out by the aristocrats themselves. After all, they have practiced selective breeding for centuries . . .” He leaned back in his chair. “Money snobbery, snobbery of birth . . . It makes a pretty picture, doesn’t it? And you two were in the picture. I suppose that we all are, now.” His manner stiffened. “But if there’s to be any shore leave, which I doubt, I shall impress upon every bastard aboard this ship, every officer, every rating, that he is to wear his uniform with pride.
“And, talking of uniforms . . .”
“We’d better get changed, sir,” said Grimes.
“You’d better,” said Griffin.
Chapter 10
Captain Daintree and the officers who had accompanied him returned from the city the following morning, delivered back to the spaceport by one of the graceful flying cars. The captain went straight to his own quarters, accompanied by Griffin, who had received him at the airlock. Dr. Passifern went straight to the ship’s well-equipped laboratory, where his own staff was awaiting him. Paymaster Lieutenant Hodge and Lieutenant Lamont, of the Marine Corps, made their way to the wardroom, where all the off-duty officers, including Grimes, were already gathered.
“And what have you to say for yourself, Pusser?” demanded Lieutenant Commander Cooper.
Hodge, a slight, clerkly young man, made a major production of drawing a cup of coffee from the dispenser. He sipped it, made a grimace. He complained, “They serve much better espresso than this . . .”
“You did more than drink coffee,” stated Cooper.
“We did,” said the Marine, stroking the luxuriant mustache that was supposed to give him a martial appearance. “We did. We sat around trying to look intelligent while our lords and masters conferred with all the counts and barons and princes and whatever.”
“Any princesses?” asked somebody.
“Yes. There was one, come to think of it. A quite tasty blonde piece. Which reminds me, she gave me a letter for you, young Grimes.”
“Never mind Mr. Grime’s love life,” said Cooper a little jealously. “That can wait. Why were we asked to call here ? Or is that classified?”
“It is,” Hodge told him primly. “No doubt the Captain will release such information as he sees fit when he feels like it.”
“But we weren’t told to say nothing of what we saw,” pointed out Lamont.
“Can I have my letter?” asked Grimes.
“Later, later. It will keep.”
“Mr. Grimes!” snapped Cooper, “I will not have the wardroom turned into a beer garden. You will please refrain from laying hands upon the brutal and licentious soldiery. Please continue, Mr. Lamont.”
“Well, Pilot, we were taken to the city, as you know. That air car was really posh. Some sort of Inertial Drive but fully automated. There was a girl in charge of it, a Lady Jane Kennelly, one of those really snooty redheads, and she never laid so much as a pinky on the controls, just said in a bored voice, ‘Head Office,’ and the thing replied—there was a speaker on the console—’Head Office, your ladyship. Certainly, your ladyship.’ I felt like saying, ‘Home, James, and don’t spare the horses,’ but the Old Man gave me such a dirty look that I thought better of it.
“She, this Lady Jane, wasn’t in a conversational mood and neither was the Old Man, so nobody talked. It was only a short flight, anyhow. We passed over what looked like farms, but more like gardens than farms, if you know what I mean. We saw big, specialized machines working in the fields, but never a human being.
“Then we came to the city. Oh, I know that we’ve all seen it from the air, but you have to be flying through it, below the level of the towers, really to appreciate it. Just towers, spires, rather, and each of them standing in its own park. Not many people around, and nobody looking to be in any sort of a hurry. Quite a few machines like oversized beetles pottering around in the gardens. My own interest in botany doesn’t go beyond things you eat and drink, like cauliflowers and hops, but even I could see that just about every species of flower in the whole damn Galaxy must have been in full bloom in those beds.
“We dropped down on to a lawn in front of the really big tower, so tall that the big, golden standard flying from its peak was half-obscured by a wisp of low cloud. And it’s not one of those flimsy, reinforced plastic jobs, either. Solid granite, it looked like. Solid granite, and polished, with a bit of gold trim here and there. Not at all gaudy. Like a huge tombstone, a multimillionaire’s tombstone, in good taste.
“Lady Jane said, in her cool voice, ‘This is the end of the penny section.’ She made it quite clear that she’d done her job and that what happened next was none of her concern. The door of the car opened and we got out. The Old Man first, then Doc, then the Pusser’s pup, then myself. We were hardly clear of the car when the door shut and it lifted and went whiffling off down the avenue. So we stood there, sort of shuffling our feet and coughing politely. Shuffling our feet? That grass felt good. I’d have loved to have kicked off my boots and walked on it barefooted.
“By this time the Old Man was looking more than somewhat thunderous. He was just about to say something when I saw a big door opening at the base of the tower. And one of those damned mechanical voices that seemed to be coming from nowhere, or everywhere, said, very politely, ‘Please to enter, gentlemen.’
“So we entered.”
“And then?” pressed Cooper. “And then?”
“I think that’s as far as we can take you,” Hodge told him severely. “I think we’ve told you too much already.”
“What about my letter?” asked Grimes.
“Shut up!” snarled the Navigator. He turned again to the Marine and Paymaster Lieutenant. “But you must know what it’s all about.”
“Yes, we know,” Hodge told him smugly. “But until we have the Captain’s permission we cannot tell you.”
Lament looked at the clerical officer with some distaste. Obviously he disliked having his story spoiled by this over-meticulous observance of regulations. He said, “I don’t think that I’m contravening the Official Secrets Act or its Survey Service equivalent if I tell you that, although we saw quite a few people in the city, we didn’t see a single child. Neither did we see in any of the parks and gardens we flew over anything that looked like a children’s playground . . .”
There was a silence while those in the wardroom pondered the implications of Lament’s statement. It was broken by Grimes. “And now can I have my letter, Lament?”
“What a one-track mind!” said Cooper, almost admiringly.
“Perhaps it’s the right track,” Grimes told him.
“Do you think they haven’t tried it, lover boy?” sneered the Lieutenant Commander.
Chapter 11
As soon as he was able Grimes got away from the wardroom, hurried to his spartan dogbox of a cabin. He looked at the letter for quite a long while before he opened it. The envelope was pale blue and conveyed, by appearance and texture, an impression of expensiveness and quality. The address, Grimes decided at last, was typewritten, although he had never either seen or heard of a machine with Gothic characters. He grinned faintly. With that type, Herr Leutnant would have looked so much better than the plain, ordinary Lieutenant.
There was a tiny tab on the pack of the envelope that made for easier opening. Grimes pulled it and the flap fell away. Immediately he was conscious of a hint of perfume, remembered it as the scent that the princess had worn at the time of their last meeting. He began to feel even more impatient, extracted the sheet of paper and unfolded it. It, too, was pale blue, deckle-edged, luxurious to sight and touch. The letter, apart from the firm, decisive signature, had been written by the same machine as the address. Dear Mr. Grimes, he read. Having met and talked with your Captain I now realize how thoughtless and selfish my behavior was on the occasion of your landing on Lake Bluewater. On this world we are prone to forget that the mores of other planets are different from our own. Perhaps, when Captain Daintree grants shore leave, you would care to be my guest.
Marlene.
He pursed his lips and whistled softly. But it means nothing, he told himself. Just noblesse oblige. Or throw the good doggie a nice bone. The Universe was full of people who said, “But you must stay with us . . .” And then were surprised and pained when you turned up their front doorstep, suitcase in hand. In any case, it yet remained to be seen whether or not Daintree would allow planet liberty.
The bulkhead speaker burped, then announced, “Attention all! Attention all! This is the Captain speaking. It is my pleasure to announce that the local authorities have agreed to permit shore leave. Arrangements will be made for sightseeing trips and the like. Details will be promulgated by Heads of Departments.” There was a pause, then Daintree added, “Mr. Grimes to report to me at once.”
So he can tell me that my leave is stopped, thought Grimes glumly.
“Sit down, Grimes.” Captain Daintree was almost affable.
Grimes sat down.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Grimes. This business of the loss of the re-entry vehicle . . .”
“Sir?”
Surprisingly, the Old Man grinned. “There was a film made of the whole sorry business. One of those damned robots in Spaceport Control records, as a matter of routine, every spaceship arrival and departure. I saw the film.” He grinned again. “I must admit that the spectacle of the Princess attired in a single water ski was, shall we say, distracting. An odd woman, Her Highness. But attractive, very attractive . . .”
Come to the point, you old goat, thought Grimes.
“Yes, very attractive and very frank. She freely admits that she was to blame for the bungled landing. Not that I altogether agree with her, but even so . . . As I’ve already said, an odd woman. With odd tastes. Very odd. Believe it or not, she wants to be your hostess during this vessel’s stay on El Dorado.” Daintree paused. Grimes decided not to say anything. Daintree went on, “I told her, of course, that your duties toward the ship come first. You have still to write the report on the loss of the dynosoar. You have still to oversee and carry out salvage operations; I declined Comte de Messigny’s offer of equipment and robot submarine workers. Then you have to write the report upon the salvage.”
“Of course, sir.”
“I’m glad that you show some sense of responsibility. But when all these tasks have been completed to my satisfaction, and not before, you will be granted leave until the vessel’s departure. This Princess von Stolzberg appears to be one of the rulers of this planet, insofar as they have rulers, so it might be advisable to, as it were, humor her.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me, Mr. Grimes. Thank Her Highness. When you get around to meeting her again.”
If I ever do, thought Grimes.
Daintree, who had his telepathic moments, laughed. “You will, Mr. Grimes. You will. This medical emergency, I suppose that it could be called that, of theirs is more serious and less straightforward than an epidemic of measles. If their quacks can’t come up with an answer, I can’t see our Dr. Passifern and his aides getting to the bottom of the problem in five seconds flat . . .” He opened the box on his desk. “Smoke, Grimes?”
“My pipe if I may, sir.”
“Suit yourself.” Daintree tapped the end of his cigarette on his thumbnail to ignite the tobacco, looked thoughtfully at the thin, rising spiral of smoke. “Yes, quite a problem they have, these El Doradans. It all goes to show that money cannot buy happiness . . .”
“But with it, sir,” pointed out Grimes, “you can, at least, be miserable in comfort.”
“Ha! Very good. I must remember that. But it is a most peculiar situation. As you know, they bought this planet and then, at enormous expense, terraformed it. With improvements. They stocked with all the flora and fauna necessary for sport as well as food. Insofar as the animal and plant kingdoms are concerned the normal cycle of birth, procreation, death has been in operation from the very start. Insofar as the humans are concerned, there are no births. No, that’s not quite correct. Some of the women were pregnant when they came here. The youngest of the children born on El Dorado is now a girl of seventeen.”
“Something in the air, or the water, sir?”
“Could be, Grimes. Could be. But I’m a spaceman, not a quack. I wouldn’t know. If it is, it must be something remarkably subtle. And you’d think that such an . . . agent? would affect the plants and the livestock as well as the people.”
Grimes, flattered by the honor of a conversation with the normally unapproachable Captain, ventured another opinion. “Do you think, sir, that they called us in so that we could . . . ? How can I put it? A sort of artificial insemination by donor? Only not so artificial.”
“Mr. Grimes!” Daintree at once reverted to his normal manner. “I ask, no, I order, you to put such ideas out of your alleged mind at once. These people, and never forget it, are in their own estimation the aristocrats of the Galaxy. They want children to inherit their wealth, their titles. But they made it quite clear to me that such children must be sired by themselves, not by mongrel outsiders.” His face darkened. “I don’t mind telling you, Mr. Grimes, that I was furious when I heard that term used. But, bear this in mind, if there are any incidents during this vessel’s stay on El Dorado it will go hard, very hard indeed, with those responsible. You will learn, Mr. Grimes, that a senior officer has very often, too often, to subordinate his own true feelings to the well-being of his Service. We are not, repeat not, a drunken, roistering crew of merchant spacemen. We are Survey Service, and every man, from myself to the lowest mess boy, will comport himself like a gentleman.”
And one definition of a gentleman, thought Grimes, is a man who takes his weight on his elbows . . .
“And this offer of hospitality by the Princess von Stolzberg, it’s no more than her way of apologizing to you and to the Survey Service. You’d better not get any false ideas.”
“I won’t, sir.”
“Very well. That will do. See the Commander and ask him for the necessary men and equipment for the salvage of the re-entry vehicle. I have already told him that the entire operation is to be directly under your charge.”
“Very good, sir.”
Grimes got to his feet, stiffened to attention in salute, turned about smartly and marched towards the door. Daintree’s sn
arl halted him abruptly.
“Mr. Grimes!”
“Sir?”
“I know that I’m only the Captain, but may I point out that it is not correct to take official leave of a senior officer with a pipe stuck in the middle of your cretinous face?”
“Sorry, sir.”
“And, Mr. Grimes, may I request that you watch your manners when you are mingling with the aristocracy?”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Your best, on far too many occasions, has not been good enough. Get out!”
Ears burning, Grimes got out.
Chapter 12
The following morning Grimes started the salvage operations.
As a unit of the Survey Service fleet, Aries was rich in all manner of equipment. She was a fighting ship but, officially at least, her prime function was exploration and survey, and a newly discovered watery world cannot be properly surveyed without underwater gear. Insofar as the raising of the dynosoar was concerned, the engineers’ workshop was able to supply, at short notice, what little extra was needed.
Commander Griffin had let Grimes have one of the work boats, a powerful little brute fitted with inertial drive, aboard which the engineers had installed a powerful air compressor. There were coils of tough, plastic hose, together with the necessary valves and connections. There was a submarine welding outfit and a good supply of metal plates of various shapes and sizes. There were scuba outfits for Grimes and for the men who would be working with him.
Shortly after dawn the airlock high on Aries’ side opened and the work boat, muttering to itself, slid out, wobbled a little in midair and then, with Grimes at the controls, set course for the further end of Lake Bluewater, from the surface of which a light mist, golden in the almost level rays of the morning sun, was lazily rising. The Lieutenant was already in his skin-tight suit, as was the remainder of the working party, but had yet to put on his helmet and flippers. The interior of the boat was crowded with men and gear, and there would have been little room to undress and dress. By his side, similarly attired, sat Chief Petty Officer Anderson, a big man, grossly fat until you looked at him more closely and realized that the fat was solid muscle. Baldheaded, baby-faced, he was peering intently at the submerged metal indicator that had been installed on the work boat’s control console. He looked up from the instrument, said, “If I were you, Mr. Grimes, I’d run to the end of the lake and then come back in short sweeps.” It was a suggestion, not an order, but when a C. P. O. suggests to even a senior officer the words carry weight.
To the Galactic Rim: The John Grimes Saga Page 16
