IV
"I've never seen anyone quite as angry as that doctor," Brion said.
"Can't blame him," Ihjel shifted his immense weight and grunted from theconsole, where he was having a coded conversation with the ship's brain.He hit the keys quickly, and read the answer from the screen. "You tookaway his medical moment of glory. How many times in his life will hehave a chance to nurse back to rugged smiling health the triumphantlyexhausted Winner of the Twenties?"
"Not many, I imagine. The wonder of it is how you managed to convincehim that you and the ship here could take care of me as well as hishospital."
"I could never convince him of that," Ihjel said. "But I and theCultural Relationships Foundation have some powerful friends on Anvhar.I'm forced to admit I brought a little pressure to bear." He leaned backand read the course tape as it streamed out of the printer. "We have alittle time to spare, but I would rather spend it waiting at the otherend. We'll blast as soon as I have you tied down in a stasis field."
The completeness of the stasis field leaves no impression on the body ormind. In it there is no weight, no pressure, no pain--no sensation ofany kind. Except for a stasis of very long duration, there is nosensation of time. To Brion's consciousness, Ihjel flipped the switchoff with a continuation of the same motion that had turned it on. Theship was unchanged, only outside of the port was the red-shot blanknessof jump space.
"How do you feel?" Ihjel asked.
Apparently the ship was wondering the same thing. Its detector unit,hovering impatiently just outside of Brion's stasis field, darted downand settled on his forearm. The doctor back on Anvhar had given themedical section of the ship's brain a complete briefing. A quick checkof a dozen factors of Brion's metabolism was compared to the expectednorm. Apparently everything was going well, because the only reactionwas the expected injection of vitamins and glucose.
"Can't say I'm feeling wonderful yet," Brion answered, levering himselfhigher on the pillows. "But every day it's a bit better, steadyprogress."
"I hope so, because we have about two weeks before we get to Dis. Thinkyou'll be back in shape by that time?"
"No promises," Brion said, giving a tentative squeeze to one bicep. "Itshould be enough time, though. Tomorrow I start mild exercise and thatwill tighten me up again. Now--tell me more about Dis and what you haveto do there."
"I'm not going to do it twice, so just save your curiosity a while.We're heading for a rendezvous-point now to pick up another operator.This is going to be a three-man team, you, me and an exobiologist. Assoon as he is aboard I'll do a complete briefing for you both at thesame time. What you can do now is get your head into the language boxand start working on your Disan. You'll want to speak it perfectly bythe time we touch down."
* * * * *
With an autohypno for complete recall, Brion had no difficulty inmastering the grammar and vocabulary of Disan. Pronunciation was adifferent matter altogether. Almost all the word endings were swallowed,muffled or gargled. The language was rich in glottal stops, clicks andguttural strangling sounds. Ihjel stayed in a different part of theship, when Brion used the voice mirror and analysis scope, claiming thatthe awful noises interfered with his digestion.
Their ship angled through jump-space along its calculated course. Itkept its fragile human cargo warm, fed them and supplied breathable air.It had orders to worry about Brion's health, so it did, checkingconstantly against its recorded instructions and noting his steadyprogress. Another part of the ship's brain counted microseconds withmoronic fixation, finally closing a relay when a predetermined numberhad expired in its heart. A light flashed and a buzzer hummed gently butinsistently.
Ihjel yawned, put away the report he had been reading, and started forthe control room. He shuddered when he passed the room where Brion waslistening to a playback of his Disan efforts.
"Turn off that dying brontosaurus and get strapped in," he calledthrough the thin door. "We're coming to the point of optimum possibilityand we'll be dropping back into normal space soon."
The human mind can ponder the incredible distances between the stars,but cannot possibly contain within itself a real understanding of them.Marked out on a man's hand an inch is a large unit of measure. Ininterstellar space a cubical area with sides a hundred-thousand mileslong is a microscopically fine division. Light crosses this distance ina fraction of a second. To a ship moving with a relative speed fargreater than that of light, this measuring unit is even smaller.Theoretically it appears impossible to find a particular area of thissize. Technologically it was a repeatable miracle that occurred toooften to even be interesting.
Brion and Ihjel were strapped in when the jump-drive cut off abruptly,lurching them back into normal space and time. They didn't unstrap, justsat and looked at the dimly distant pattern of stars. A single sun, ofapparent fifth magnitude was their only neighbor in this lost corner ofthe universe. They waited while the computer took enough star sights totriangulate a position in three dimensions, muttering to itselfelectronically while it did the countless calculations to find theirposition. A warning bell chimed and the drive cut on and off so quicklythe two acts seemed simultaneous. This happened again, twice, before thebrain was satisfied it had made as good a fix as possible and flashed aNAVIGATION POWER OFF light. Ihjel unstrapped, stretched and made them ameal.
Ihjel had computed their passage time with criminally preciseallowances. Less than ten hours after they arrived a powerful signalblasted into their waiting receiver. They strapped in again as theNAVIGATION POWER ON signal blinked insistently.
A ship had paused in flight somewhere relatively near in the vast volumeof space. It had entered normal space just long enough to emit a signalof radio query on an assigned wave length. Ihjel's ship had detectedthis and instantly responded with a verifying signal. The passengerspacer had accepted this assurance and gracefully laid a ten-foot metalegg in space. As soon as this had cleared its jump field the parent shipvanished towards its destination, light-years away.
Ihjel's ship climbed up the signal it had received. This signal had beenrecorded and examined minutely. Angle, strength and Doppler movementwere computed to find course and distance. A few minutes of flight wereenough to get within range of the far weaker transmitter in thedropcapsule. Homing on this signal was so simple, a human pilot couldhave done it himself. The shining sphere loomed up, then vanished out ofsight of the viewports as the ship rotated to bring the space lock intoline. Magnetic clamps cut in when they made contact.
"Go down and let the bug-doctor in," Ihjel said. "I'll stay and monitorthe board in case of trouble."
"What do I have to do?"
"Get into a suit and open the outer lock. Most of the drop sphere ismade of inflatable metallic foil so don't bother to look for theentrance. Just cut a hole in it with the oversize can opener you'll findin the tool box. After Dr. Morees gets aboard jettison the thing. Onlyget the radio and locator unit out first--it gets used again."
The tool did look like a giant opener. Brion carefully felt theresilient metal skin that covered the lock entrance, until he was surethere was nothing on the other side. Then he jabbed the point throughand cut a ragged hole in the thin foil. Dr. Morees boiled out of thesphere, knocking Brion aside.
"What's the matter?" Brion asked.
There was no radio on the other's suit, he couldn't answer. But he didshake his fist angrily. The helmet ports were opaqued so there was noway to tell what expression went with the gesture. Brion shrugged andturned back to salvaging the equipment pack, pushing the puncturedballoon free and sealing the lock. When pressure was pumped back toship-normal he cracked his helmet and motioned the other to do the same.
"You're a pack of dirty lying dogs!" Dr. Morees said when the helmetcame off. Brion was completely baffled. Dr. Lea Morees had long darkhair, large eyes and a delicately shaped mouth now taut with anger. Dr.Morees was a woman.
"Are you the filthy swine responsible for this atrocity?" Lea askedmenacingly.
"Kidnaped! Lied to and forced against my will! There is no court in thegalaxy that won't give you the maximum sentence and I'll scream withpleasure as they roll your fat body into solitary--"
"They shouldn't have sent a woman," Ihjel said, completely ignoring herwords. "I asked for a highly-qualified exobiologist for a difficultassignment. Someone young and tough enough to do field work under severeconditions. So the recruiting office sends me the smallest female theycan find, one who'll melt in the first rain."
"I will not!" Lea shouted. "Female resiliency is a well known fact andI'm in far better condition than the average woman. Which has nothing todo with what I'm telling you. I was hired for a job in the university onMoller's World and signed a contract to that effect. Then this bully ofan agent tells me the contract has been changed, read sub paragraph189-C or some such nonsense, and I'll be transshipping. He stuffed meinto that suffocation basketball without a by-your-leave and they threwme overboard. If that is not a violation of personal privacy--"
"Cut a new course, Brion," Ihjel broke in. "Find the nearest settledplanet and head us there. We have to drop this woman and find a man forthis job. We are going to what is undoubtedly the most interestingplanet an exobiologist ever conceived of, but we need a man who can takeorders and not faint when it gets too hot."
Brion was lost. Ihjel had done all the navigating and Brion had no ideahow to begin a search like this.
"Oh no you don't," Lea said. "You don't get rid of me that easily. Iplaced first in my class and most of the five-hundred other studentswere male. This is only a man's universe because the men say so. What isthe name of this garden planet where we are going?"
"Dis. I'll give you a briefing as soon as I get this ship on course." Heturned to the controls and Lea slipped out of her suit and went into thelavatory to comb her hair. Brion closed his mouth, aware suddenly it hadbeen open for a long time. "Is that what you call applied psychology?"he asked.
"Not really. She was going to go along with the job in the end--sinceshe did sign the contract even if she didn't read the fine print--butnot until she had exhausted her feelings. I just shortened the processby switching her onto the male-superiority hate. Most women, who succeedin normally masculine fields, have a reflexive antipathy there, theyhave been hit on the head with it so much." He fed the course tape intothe console and scowled. "But there was a good chunk of truth in what Isaid. I wanted a young, fit and highly qualified biologist fromrecruiting. I never thought they would find a female one. And it's toolate to send her back now. Dis is no place for a woman."
"Why?" Brion asked, as Lea appeared in the doorway.
"Come inside, and I'll show you both," Ihjel said.
Sense of Obligation Page 4
