Ocean Under the Ice

by Robert L. Forward

  “We ought to take some sort of count,” speculated George. “The icerugs seem to congregate in certain areas and not in others, so a map of population density might be a good thing to make.”

  “That’s going to require a survey, an aerial survey of a great deal of territory, will it not?” asked Deirdre.

  “Umm,” replied George. “Anything really accurate would be more than I’d care to undertake, at least on this mission. But an overview of at least the inner pole area, and perhaps a visual estimate of the population around each geyser, might prove enlightening to us — and maybe even the icerugs.”

  Deirdre didn’t automatically approve of attempting to enlighten the aliens, but she knew well how population trends can illustrate trends in environmental changes. An accurate map of the native population density would be valuable base-line data for future research studies. As they flew closer to the large lake — tens of kilometers in size — the area that each icerug occupied become smaller, and the pattern shifted from the general hexagonal arrangement of triangles that they had noticed out in the country to more complex shapes.

  “There seem to be certain centers of importance,” said David. “Instead of a point being surrounded by six equilateral triangles, it is surrounded by dozens, or even hundreds of narrow isosceles triangles, all meeting at the same vertex point, as if it were necessary for all those icerugs to be in communication with each other at the same time.”

  “Could be the icerug equivalent of a parliament,” suggested George. “Or a factory with a production line — although I doubt it. The types of items that we have seen the icerugs carry are more like those produced by craftsmen than a production line — still, you never know…”

  “Here’s something interesting!” said Shirley, as she changed the zoom on the right hand dome visible imaging telescope. They could now see an enlarged image of a long snake-like strip made of two slightly different blue-green colors adjacent to each other.

  “If those are two icerugs lying side-by-side, then they are longest icerugs I’ve seen yet,” said George, copying her screen. “They must go for five kilometers or so.”

  “Look,” said Richard, his finger on Shirley’s touchscreen producing a green indicator spot on George’s screen. “They meet up with another pair of long icerugs here.”

  Shirley increased the zoom, and soon they could see objects moving along the twin strips.

  “It’s a living conveyor belt!”

  On one strip there were lumps and parcels of various sizes and shapes moving rapidly along, while on the neighboring strip, similar things were moving in the opposite direction. Shirley’s fingers flickered over the icons at the side of her screen, then touched one of the strips, which lit up with a yellow border surrounding it. Soon Joe replied through her imp, “Area of strip indicated is 4424 square meters. Average width of strip not quite one meter, length four point eight kilometers.”

  “That’s about the same area as one of the triangular icerugs out in the country,” remarked Deirdre. “But this one seems, perhaps, specialized.”

  “I wonder what other specialty body shapes they can assume,” mused Richard. “Do they have driller icerugs, or mining icerugs, or water company icerugs, or sewage disposal icerugs?”

  “Telephone line icerugs?” ventured David. “If they go to a strip a millimeter across, four thousand square meters would stretch…” Joe responded with the answer, “…four thousand kilometers, David, lad. One-quarter o’the circumference of the moon. More than enough to reach from one geyser community to another.”

  It was obvious that the central portion of Windward was concentrated on the lee side of the geyser lake, in the direction where the prevailing winds from the leading pole of Zulu would blow the spray from the geyser. The dangerous ice-shelf shores of the lake were barren of icerugs, although a few brave specimens extended a small portion of their bodies out onto the thicker parts.

  The Dragonfly flew through a small upward-billowing cloud rising from the warm waters below, temporarily blocking the view. Suddenly, the Dragonfly swerved to the right, and continued in a wide circle, until the plane was heading away from the big geyser. “Wings icing. I try again.” Arielle’s voice was firm and unworried, but the others fell silent, looking out at the incredibly slender wings that carried them. David quickly left the jump seat and returned to his computer console, where he flashed terse questions at Joe concerning the geysering pattern of Manannan as determined from previous recordings of the geyser action under similar tidal conditions, and assimilated the computer’s brief answers into his predictions. He was going to check his conclusions with their geologist, Richard, but when he glanced over at the absorbed couple at the science console, he decided to make the decision on his own. He broadcast his recommendation through all imps.

  “In fifteen minutes, there will be a respite — perhaps a half hour in duration, when the geyser activity will be less. The tides from Zuni and Zouave will be slightly canceling each other because of their different phases, and the pulsation period of the geyser will simultaneously at its minimum. According to Joe, during that period, Arielle should be able to touch down, drop an exploration crew off, and go again, with minimal chance of icing up. She can return safely a few hours later when the two conjunctions are over and the geyser has settled down again.”

  As he spoke, Arielle took the Dragonfly back again toward the center of all the geyser activity. “I take another look.” Her eyes flickered, searching the ice-shelf shore of the lake for a safe place to come down that was near the center of the city. George, anxious to succeed in his plan to land and meet with the more sophisticated members of this alien civilization, left his copilot seat and started back to the rear to put on his exploration suit. He passed Richard and Shirley, and automatically registered their closeness. As he walked on, he quickly inserted this fact into his various options.

  “Right — they’re at that stage. I don’t give a damn, but we’re short of time on this mission and I’ll need both of them being sensible. I’ll have to break it up. They can wait.”

  He returned shortly in his exploration suit, minus his helmet. He reached the co-pilot’s seat, and zeroed all his attention in on the information appearing on his screen. Arielle grunted, and flicked a long fingernail out the side cockpit window on her left, before swinging the Dragonfly back into another big circle. George had just time to see what she had been pointing at, before it swept from view. It was a large circular area along the Manannan lake front ice shelf, which looked both relatively flat and empty of icerug bodies.

  “Next pass, if ice stays off wings, I try there.” Arielle’s few words gave George a clear, quick picture of her scheme, and he reacted upon them.

  “David. Stay with the plane and monitor the activities of the flouwen. Richard and Deirdre, suit up to go out with me. Shirley, stay with the plane and design a mapping survey of the inner pole area. You can start with a population density map of the icerug nation around this geyser, as accurate as you have time for, before picking us up again. Arielle, take us down when ready.”

  The crisp commands sparked everyone. Joyfully, Deirdre headed to the rear to put on her suit again. Richard and Shirley arose more slowly, but Richard’s mind sprang quickly to the prospect of exploring more of this world, and Shirley fastened on the two concerns of a new task to perform and the customary but vital one of assuring the safety of the crew in their suits. Soon, Richard was going through the checkout of his suit panel, grunting as Shirley punched each check button.

  Arielle found her planned landing site again, and soon the Dragonfly cut its jets and started a slow glide toward the bare spot of ice between the lake shore and the center of the city. The icerugs had obviously cleared out from the area so the plane could land. There was a light snow falling from the upper clouds, but the geyser had slowed down, as predicted, and there was no icy rain accompanying the snowfall. Where they were heading, there were dozens of narrow isosceles triangles of colorful carpets a
rranged in a circle, their apexes pointing at the round patch of clear ice. The nodes of each icerug were placed well back from the landing area.

  In the back of the airplane, as the three explorers entered the inner airlock door, Richard’s eyes met Shirley’s through the intervening visor of his suit; both grinned, and Shirley kissed the visor lightly, then instantly buffed away the tiny trace of lipstick she had left on the surface.

  “See you later,” they said together.

  Deirdre caught the exchange, noted it, and forgot it. She moved into the airlock behind George, excitement mounting within her, although Foxx, perched on her shoulder, reflected Deirdre’s calm outward composure.

  The time Arielle was willing to spend on the ice was short; so George, Richard, and Deirdre, having made sure that they had all the items that had been planned for this meeting stowed in their chestpacks, waited in the closed airlock, ready to leave as soon as the plane landed.

  Arielle’s eyes assessed the landing site. To David, watching from the co-pilot seat beside her, the field seemed full of boulders and ice ridges — much more so than it had appeared from the heights — but Arielle coolly brought the large plane to a hovering halt on its VTOL fans, and rotating it about its vertical axis, maneuvered the long wings between the threatening masses and lowered it down near the icy surface.

  Reluctant to come to a complete halt, Arielle hovered while George, Deirdre, and Richard opened the airlock door, jumped onto the ice, and ran out from under the wing and toward the front of the plane where Arielle could see them. Once they were safely in view, the tiny pilot smiled brightly at them behind the thick cockpit window, waved goodbye, and the Dragonfly lifted and swiftly flew away to altitude.

  The three explorers turned to look around. The almost hasty decision he had taken, to land at this early opportunity, left George feeling that the last few moments had been hectic. In startling contrast was the composure of the large alien node confronting him with its yellow-gold eye in the middle of its peacock colored carpet. The majestic looking icerug node looked as if it had been standing there, immobile, for hours, as the fine granules of lightly falling snow slid down over the fantastic colors and shapes of its ornate attire.

  At the base of its eye stalk was a wide collar of shining gold medallions alternating with bushy rosettes of brightly colored red lace. From the collar fell a long white cape covered with more red lace rosettes with long strands of red ribbons fluttering from them. Around the narrow “neck” region below the globular head and above the four tentacles was a neckband, again with shining gold medallions alternating with rosettes of red lace, from which draped more ribbons that fell down between the four tentacles. The ribbons partially covered a number of pouches and artifacts that hung down below the tentacles where they could be easily grasped. Surrounding the “waist” region below the four tentacles and above the pedestal was a belt, again with medallions and rosettes. Hanging from the belt was a white skirt that covered the pedestal of the icerug node. The skirt design repeated the gaudy rosette and ribbon motif of the cape. Using one peacock-colored tentacle, the icerug lifted a large monocle and looked through it, its large eye looking even larger through the lens.

  The nodes of the other icerugs surrounding their landing site were well back at the far end of their carpets, apparently deferring to the elaborately-dressed greeter. All the icerug nodes were clad in a kaleidoscopic variety of costumes of various hues and textures. The humans started over the bare ice toward the greeter, and the yellow-eyed alien glided simultaneously across its peacock carpet to meet them.

  “All these icerugs seem a lot better dressed and decorated than the country one,” remarked George through their private imp link.

  “Aye, and much good it does them,” said Deirdre coolly. “Nothing I see of warmth or protection, only grand to look at.”

  George and the icerug node met at the edge of the icerug’s carpet. George was not a small man, but the eye of the icerug towered over him. George cleared his throat, wondering if he should speak first, and regarding the imposing alien in some awe.

  “Greetings to you, strangers, from the Governing Council of Windward City, of which I, Golden-Glint, am Presider!” The long rolling thunder of this speech was smoothly rendered into human words and tones by the translation programs in their suit computers. The humans stood silent, studying the fine peacock shimmer of the Presider, surmounted by a yellow eye with a strong sparkle of golden color that flickered as the alien continued to speak.

  “We have heard of your arrival in a far distant region of ice near our nation’s perimeter. We have studied and discussed reports of you, your flying machines, and your actions, brought to us through the Conveners in contact with that region. We have decided, unanimously of course, to invite you into our great city to show you of its wonders.” There was a great deal more, mostly of a self-laudatory and rather pompous nature, but so benign in character that George had leisure to compose the opening sentences of a speech for the visitors. He recalled formal presentations on Earth, and resolved to use as many oratorical garnishes as he could remember; Reiki had mentioned once that among cultures with a love of speech-making, a short answer is tantamount to an insult.

  George did his best, but eventually found himself running out of things to say. “…and so, hearing of the marvelous wonders to see, and things to learn in your wonderful city, we resolved to travel here for a brief time, hoping to see something of its … erm … marvelous wonders.” The sheet of glassy-foil in the hands of his suit imp boomed out the icerug translation of George’s last few words and fell silent.

  “And we’re wasting the time we have,” thought Richard. “Cut it short, George!” Thankfully, he saw the icerug bodies ahead of them begin to move their carpet edges apart, opening a clear path of ice for the humans to walk on, while Golden-Glint indicated with a graceful sweep of three of its tentacles that the visitors were to accompany them.

  The procession moved quickly. The icerug seemed to move effortlessly, and the humans marched as fast as was comfortable.

  “Ahead, you will observe the Grand Portal. This is the main entrance into our Great Meeting Hall.”

  They were approaching the decorated opening of a tunnel, going down into the ice. This tall entrance portal was constructed of beautifully polished and elaborately carved rocks, closely fitted together. As they descended along the gleaming icy path lined with hundreds of threads of icerug flesh, Richard noted and commented to the others through their private imp link, “There, at the bottom of the walls. Those are nickel-iron meteorites — very strong building materials if you can get them. And there, up above, the composition of the arch changes to volcanic rock — light, but still strong. Look how high that arch is!”

  They were all impressed with the size of the entrance hallway. The ceiling above them, vaulted with rock and roofed with what looked like bars of ice, soared higher than the entryways in many medieval cathedrals. They finally entered a gigantic room with the roof supported by stone arches rising from thick stone pedestal bases.

  “It’s the low gravity here, I guess,” murmured Richard. “Even with all the mass of ice and snow on top, they can still build these tremendously tall and wide arches.”

  Deirdre said nothing, her whole attention caught with the spectacle around her. Hundreds of icerug nodes were in the gigantic meeting hall, which still seemed almost empty, so vast were its spaces. Each icerug was emitting a spot of blue bioluminescent light from a dished-in portion of their spherical head section of their node, and all the soft blue “spotlights” were pointed in their direction. The light from all those concave spots was also reflected from the stone walls, polished to a mirror sheen, and in addition, was reflected off all the eyes on the ends of the eye stalks, focussed upon the visitors. Deirdre was reminded of a field of sunflowers, with herself as the sun, and was enchanted. George, less happily, remembered his first graduation ceremony, and hoped he wouldn’t trip.

  Accompanied by the Preside
r, the humans moved to a clear floor area seemingly set aside for them. There was nothing upon which a human could sit, or even lean; all three were resigned to this, and adopted a relaxed stance they could maintain indefinitely. Golden-Glint was speaking again; they caught the glitter of something held by two of the alien’s tentacles. It was a small sheet of ice that Golden-Glint held in front of its concave illuminator while “reading” from it with its large eye, occasionally glancing up to look at the humans or the attentive audience. The humans watched fascinated, as the upper edge of the sheet apparently melted, and was absorbed by the tentacle holding it from above, while the speech was being read. Golden-Glint finally concluded.

  “We know you will enjoy hearing our Orchestra and Chorus from the Center of Musical Studies. They shall perform for you now.”

  Amazed, the humans realized that a large segment of the surrounding crowds was arranged in orderly rows; each individual holding a small sheet of rock between two tentacles. Some of the others held curious objects which were revealed to be musical instruments; varieties of chimes could be seen, and all sorts of drums. There were also strange shapes mounted with taut strands, which were plucked or bowed. All three humans wished suddenly that David were with them. The rest of the musicians constituted a large chorus, and the music which burst forth from this alien combination was wonderfully deep and compelling to Deirdre.

  “Fond I am of the low bass tones,” she murmured to the others through their private imp link, “but I never before heard a song where the highest note in it was middle C!” She listened with delight; for the first time she forgot her professional determination to distance herself emotionally from this alien life-form. Richard and George were studying the various instruments intently, memorizing as many different structures as they could see, to relate later to David, and hoping that the video monitor cameras in their helmets had enough resolution to capture the details of construction.