Fossil isaacs universe, p.14
Fossil: Isaac's Universe, page 14
"You may release your driver from the back compartment. You should also tell it that any attempt to cut off or change settings on this control will shut down all power. I will come back to recover it later, but it may be quite cold inside by then."
Rekchellet was not too disturbed at having an obvious maneuver foreseen and forestalled. He went back through the air lock section as the truck resumed its travel, and opened the door for Third-Supply-Watcher. She was not surprised at his arrival, naturally.
The Crotonite quickly passed on Ennissee's warning, adding no comments of his own. It was quite likely that they could be heard from the control section. Third-Supply-Watcher was equally cautious, merely acknowledging his words and following him forward. Ennissee paid no attention to her.
"We'll go now," he said briefly. "I've set the hatch to open for half a minute as soon as the inner lock door closes. You will follow me out. The truck will reach my site before I expect to need it. I assume you have warned your—your responsibility about the driver setting as I instructed." "Of course."
"Do you consider it intelligent enough to heed all the implications?" "Of course."
"Then come along." Ennissee led the way back to the air lock, waited until Rekchellet had joined him inside, and closed the forward door. As he had said it would, the outer hatch promptly started to yawn. The moment it was wide enough, Ennissee leapt through the gap. Rekchellet followed, and was meters away by the time he heard the panel close behind them. He cast only a quick glance at the moving truck, feeling pretty sure what the Locrian would do, and concentrated on keeping Ennissee in sight. The artificial wing membranes seemed no handicap; Rekchellet began to realize how long it had been since he had rested or eaten.
Inside the truck, Third-Supply-Watcher waited calmly until the two winged beings were out of sight. Then she went to the cabinet where the neutrino transmitter had been kept.
It was empty, and S'Nash might once again have been interested; but the Locrian said nothing even to herself. There had, after all, been no reason to suppose that Ennissee was completely stupid. She looked briefly to make sure the equipment was nowhere on board, wondered how far back he might have jettisoned it, and spent a few minutes examining the driver connections. This took enough of her attention to make her miss the natives who swooped briefly past outside during those minutes.
She was not expert in electromechanical matters and could not be sure of what she saw, but not even S'Nash would have detected any uneasiness in her manner as she stood motionless in front of the control console, thinking carefully, for another minute or two, and then shut off the autodriver.
-
Chapter Eight
And Clues May Oft But
Little Help Provide
"Like Erthumoi, I suppose." Hugh keyed, not worrying whether his cynicism showed.
"No, you're easy. Your faces move. But what do we do about Rekchellet and Third? It" it was she in the truck we should find out why, and if it wasn't we need to find out what's become of her."
"And where the new one came from. Right. So you checked in here. Good. I wish I knew what was best, but—where's Crow? Did he come back, too?"
"No. We thought of that, and then decided it would be smarter for one of us to keep track of the truck. It might start traveling again, or get buried, and be hard to find even for us unless we got within three or four kilometers; and the whole problem started with that truck, didn't it? And there are a lot of square kilometers on the Solid Ocean."
"It did. You were right. Are you tired, cold, or hungry?"
"I'd be glad to eat."
"All right, go ahead. Then tell every other flier in Safety what's happened. Send a pair of them out to find and relieve Crow so he can come in, too; you can tell them where to start looking, at least." "Should I report to Administration.'" "I'll take care of that. Go eat." Walt left the office without further questions, and Hugh retuned the transmitter.
In spite of his recent conversation with Barrar, he first told Spreadsheet-Thinker's office what he was doing and why, delivering the information as a statement rather than asking permission. Since he was using code, they knew better than to ask for more details just yet, but Hugh was sure that his sudden monopolization of so much workpower would not go unchallenged for long. Barrar's calm acceptance of the situation had rather surprised him; Hugh doubted neither the Samian's willingness nor his ability to back him up, but felt better having the whole matter formally on record. He was not an experienced administrator even yet, but was learning.
He then retuned the communicator, and with rather more complication managed to reach Janice's lab.
"Hon? I think I've talked Spreadsheet-Thinker out of an aircraft, but it may take a while to materialize. There are things to do out there in the dark. Have you found out anything more about our iceberg?"
"Yes. Age. Tell you when we're together."
He confined himself to "That all?" His wife presumably had reasons for secrecy.
"H'Feer came by the lab with thanks. It/she's back at work. Wants a job in Safety."
"Good. See you."
Hugh was perfectly willing to have more and different people under his charge if Administration didn't mind, but was not going to discuss the matter without knowing more about the Naxian, especially about how well it/she had recovered from being frozen alive. That was something else which could wait. He signed off and left the office, still planning.
Janice was a thoughtful and foresighted partner. Hugh had mentioned wanting an aircraft. She knew as well as he that Administration would have to approve the request and, at reflex level, probably wouldn't. She greatly enjoyed the sense of accomplishment when it could honestly be experienced, and did some planning of her own.
By the time her husband reached their quarters, she had called around and unobtrusively determined the present official location and assignment of all four of the aircraft used by the Project, just to provide Hugh with ammunition he might need.
She was not too surprised at his worried state when he detailed the situation to her; he was a responsible person, and Rekchellet a good friend. She showed him the information she had gathered about the aircraft. He looked at it, grinned, and did the best job of kissing her that a room full of diving fluid allowed.
"Beautiful. There are two they could spare without hurting a thing. I can surely talk them out of one, especially since some of our own people are now unaccounted for."
"Will they blame you for their getting lost?"
"Why? They approved what we were doing."
"What they knew of it."
"Spreadsheet-Thinker wouldn't like to admit there was anything going on here she didn't know about. It would reflect on her administrative efficiency. Come on; I'll have the use of that machine in five minutes."
Actually it was nearly five hours. Hugh had misjudged something. He thought some bad language, arranged for communication with the flying searchers he had so hastily sent out while on the way back along the road, and calmed himself with a meal as Janice had done. They even slept, briefly; he had not realized how tired he was, and she had been in the lab through most of his absence.
The hours were fruitful only in determining a fairly large area where Rekchellet did not seem to be. The truck had not moved, but the watchers could now see no one inside. They had not tried to enter or attract attention, judging that the search for Rekchellet was more important; the slow vehicle could be found easily enough, they now felt, even if it did resume travel.
All this was reported to Hugh by relays of his own personnel, and he in turn dutifully reported the details to Administration with ever louder insistence that he be given the use of a flying machine. He never understood with any certainty what caused the delay; Spreadsheet-Thinker remained noncommittal. The Erthumoi suspected that in spite of Janice's earlier research, one or more of the vehicles was being used without authority and the administrators simply didn't know where it was. Hugh almost mentioned this to S'Nash, when the Naxian appeared and asked how the search was progressing, but decided against it. The snaky being would already be aware of his irritation and coded complaint would be conversational overload.
Finally, however, clearance came. Hugh sent out a relayed message for one of the Habras or Crotonites on the search to come back toward Pitville to meet him and act as a guide. Husband and wife had been wearing most of their armor all along. Now they donned helmets, checked out, and made all possible speed to the hangar. S'Nash was now there, and while Naxians had no reputation for radiating their emotions, both Erthumoi felt a shade of self-satisfaction when it/he spoke.
"About the best we could get, I'd say." It/he did not amplify, and neither Erthuma went beyond casual agreement; but both wondered a bit.
Hugh had asked for the services of another Locrian, and there was a further brief delay while they waited for this one's arrival; naturally, he had not been released from regular work until after clearance of the flyer. The being appeared with what under any other circumstances would have seemed commendable speed and climbed into the ten-place machine, introducing himself as Plant-Biologist.
Janice and he talked quiet shop about Habranhan vegetation while Hugh lifted off and headed slowly northwest, blinking his lights in the standard here's headquarters pattern of the Safety Office. S'Nash, who had come aboard without asking administrative clearance, curled up behind the pilot seat and said nothing.
The truck, they knew, was nearly a hundred kilometers from Pitville. The flier could have covered the distance in moments, but not safely; there were too many living searchers in the air, many of them not carrying lights yet in spite of Hugh's efforts in that direction. The Habras were cooperative enough, but their eyesight covered nearly the full sphere and no one had yet designed a running light, other than a rather useless one pointing straight to the rear, which they could carry without the glare's interfering with the bearer's vision. From their own point of view, of course, their electrical senses made such equipment superfluous; they could detect each other and Hugh's ship with no trouble.
But if the craft were moving at anything like its full speed, they could never spot it in time to dodge.
After endless minutes, the radio receiver picked up a Habra voice. "I see you, Hugh. Descend to one kilometer, and slow down to comfort speed." This, to Habras, was about fifty kilometers per Common Hour. "Good. I'll be with you in a minute or two. You're heading in almost the right direction. I will come close enough to let you see me."
There was a pause. Then Jan jumped slightly as the crimson-patterned cylinder of the Habra's trunk suddenly appeared a scant two meters—less than its own length—above the pilot canopy of their craft. As usual, the wings were invisible, partly from their transparency, partly from their rapid motion; the cockpit light was bright enough to have shown them had they been in glide mode, since it was bright enough to show the body's color. Harness ornaments which both Erthumoi knew to signify maleness glinted.
Hugh gestured to indicate that he saw, and the native drew smoothly ahead and down until he was directly in front of the cockpit and level with it.
"Follow. You'll see the truck in about five minutes," his voice came again. "When you do, tell me and I'll cut over to one side so I can watch you better. We'll both stand by in case you have anything for us to do. We just relieved the last pair, and can stay for a couple of hours with no trouble."
"I'll watch him," said Hugh to the others aboard. "You keep your eyes on the ground. Let me know when you see the truck." A mixed murmur and buzz of agreement allowed the man to focus his attention on his leader, and for the promised five minutes nothing more was said.
It was the Locrian who spotted the truck first, partly because the native led them directly over it and neither Hugh nor his wife could see straight down. Plant-Biologist, his vision not blocked by the floor of the little craft, calmly reported the sighting.
"The truck is below us. You will have to fall back or go to one side to observe it through any of your windows."
Janice was mildly annoyed, but tried to retain her scientific objectivity. They were still five hundred meters above the hilltops, and the Locrian's words had just invalidated her favorite personal theory of how their penetrating vision worked.
She pushed that thought into the background, as Hugh called to the Habra, slowed abruptly, and swung around in a tight circle to let more conventional eyes confirm the report.
It was correct. Dark as the landscape now was, with the rime-covered body of the vehicle little different from the ice dust around it. even human eyes could see it.
He went down as close as he could, but still could not see satisfactorily. The vehicle was in a narrow valley; if he flew low enough beside it to get a look through the driver's window, dividing his attention to take the look could be disastrous. There was no reason to suppose that the local hills were as loosely constructed as the waste pile at Pitville.
Still, he had brought Plant-Biologist along for a reason; he might as well use him. Hugh hovered over the truck and asked the Locrian to examine it as thoroughly as he could, with special reference to who and how many were aboard. The other settled more comfortably in his seat, unshielded his eye, and went to work.
"There is only one living being there," he said at last. "The Locrian is alone in one of the after compartments, apparently relaxing. There is no one else in that chamber, in the lock, or in the driving section."
"Is it Third-Supply-Watcher? Or are you acquainted with her?"
"Yes to both questions." "Can you talk to her?"
"We cannot hear each other. If we can attract her attention and she sees me, we can signal."
"Good. Our obvious questions are why she slopped and what has happened to Rekchellet. I don't really expect an answer to the latter. I'll try to get to a position where she can see you—I'm surprised she hasn't noticed us already—and you can start your arm-waving or whatever the signs involve."
Third-Supply-Watcher remained motionless and apparently uninterested in her surroundings for several minutes, until Hugh asked the Habra to pound on the shell of the truck. This produced results.
"She has noticed our ship and looked at it several times. I don't know why she hasn't looked inside— wait; she sees me now."
Plant-Biologist fell silent. He made no motions that either Erthuma could see, but with Locrian eyesight there was no need for motions to be external. It seemed best not to interrupt, and Hugh waited as patiently as he could for the next few minutes. The scientist finally reported.
"She was told that if she turned the guiding equipment off, the main power would also be cut. She doubted this, but took the chance in order to make the truck easier to locate. As you can see, she does not have full-recycling armor. She does not know her precise location, but did not want to get any farther from Pitville. There is no Locrian food aboard, and stopping here seemed better than allowing the vehicle to proceed as it had been set. I agree with her."
"Her armor will let her join us here," pointed out Janice.
"True," agreed Hugh. "I'd have her come over in a shot if I thought she were in immediate danger."
"She is very hungry," remarked Plant-Biologist.
"Oh. Of course. Sorry." The man pursed his lips, and hesitated. "I'd love to know where that thing is supposed to have been going, but there's no one here who can set the autodriver up again if we do anything but simply turn it back on."
"Rek did," his wife pointed out. "There are other Crotonites in your own crew, some of them probably within fifty kilometers. Why should Third have to—"
The biologist made a querying sound.
"Sorry. I meant Third-Supply-Watcher."
"She shouldn't," admitted Hugh. "Tell her to stop worrying for now. We'll land, and she can come over here. Have you any food with you?"
"Of course." This time the biologist, or his translator, had no trouble with the address ambiguity. He fell silent once more as he signaled his fellow on the truck.
"We'll have to get out and work the lock controls from outside," Janice pointed out. "They're mechanical, and Third-Supply-Watcher may not be strong enough to handle them."
"Wait a minute. Something's funny," returned her husband. "She said the power would go off, but the drive cabin lights are still on."
"She is operating the inner lock, and passing through. Now she is closing it, and has operated the switch of the outer hatch." The three watched as the door swung out and down as the Erthumoi had seen it do before. Hugh hastily grounded the flier as the lightly armored insectile figure emerged. He opened his own air lock, and Plant-Biologist reached for the pack he had brought aboard.
Third-Supply-Watcher did not remove her helmet after coming aboard; Habranhan air was crushingly dense for her species, and Hugh had not bothered to drop the ship's pressure, since he, Janice, and S'Nash had long been used to it themselves. However, her armor had a feeding lock and she promptly made use of it. Presumably she thanked the other Locrian, but neither Erthuma could detect the communication. Hugh, not wanting to interrupt her meal, went through the lock to check the truck out himself. Two winged figures promptly landed beside him. One was a Crotonite, which could be helpful. He beckoned them to follow him inside.
