The compleat collected s.., p.458
The COMPLEAT Collected SFF Works, page 458
Before the Captain had finished speaking, Conway began cutting a narrow vertical rectangle in the wall plating, a shape that would enable both his eyes and the helmet light to be directed through the opening at the same time so that he could see into the adjoining compartment. But when he burned through the wall there was nothing to see except a black, powdery substance, which spilled out of the opening and hung in a weightless cloud until the movement of his cutter flame sent it spinning into tiny three-dimensional whirlpools.
He worked his hand carefully into the hole, feeling the warmth of the still-hot edges through his thin gauntlets, and withdrew a small handful of the stuff to examine it more closely. Then he moved to another section of the wall and tried again. And again.
Fletcher watched him but did not speak. All of the Captain's attention was again concentrated in his fingertips. Conway began working on the opposite wall of the corridor, reducing the size of the test holes to speed up the process. When he had cut four widely separated fist-sized holes without uncovering anything but the powdery material, he called Murchison.
"We are finding large quantities of a coarse black powder," he told her, "which has a faint odor suggesting an organic or partly organic composition. It could be a form of nutrient soil. Does that fit the crew's physiology profile?"
"It fits," said Murchison promptly. "From my preliminary examination of the two small cadavers I would say that the atmosphere in their ship is for the convenience of the larger FSOJ life-form. The blind ones do not possess lungs as such. They are burrowers who metabolize the organic constituents of their soil as well as any other plant or animal tissue that happens to be available. They ingest the soil via the large frontal mouth opening, but the larger upper lip is capable of being folded over the lower one so that the mouth is sealed shut when it needs to burrow without eating. We've noticed atrophy of the limbs, or to be more accurate, the movable pads on the underside that propel it, and of hypersensitivity in the upper-surface tactual sensors. This probably means that their culture has evolved to the stage where they inhabit artificially constructed tunnel systems with readily accessible food supplies, rather than having to burrow for it. The material you describe could be a special loosely packed nutrient soil that combines the ship's food supply with a medium for physical exercise."
"I see," said Conway.
A blind, burrowing worm who somehow managed to reach the stars! Then Murchison's next words reminded him that the blind ones were capable of seemingly petty and cruel activities as well as those that were great and glorious.
"Regarding the survivors," she went on, "if the FSOJ laboratory animal, or whatever it is, is too close to the surviving crew-member and we cannot rescue both without endangering ourselves or the blind one, a large reduction in atmospheric pressure, provided it is carried out gradually so as to avoid decompression damage to the blind one's tissues, would disable or more likely kill the FSOJ."
"That would be the last thing we would try," said Conway firmly. The rules were very strict in first-contact situations like this, where one could never be absolutely sure that an apparently senseless and ferocious beast was, in fact, a non-sentient creature.
"I know, I know," Murchison replied. "And it will interest you to know that the FSOJ was in an advanced stage of pregnancy, a time during which most life-forms, regardless of their degree of intelligence, can feel overprotective, overemotional and overaggressive if they think their unborn is being threatened. That might be the reason why the FSOJ broke out of its cage. As well, the blind one would not have been able to kill it with its horn if the FSOJ's underbody had not been locally weakened in preparation for the imminent birth."
Conway considered that for a moment. "The female FSOJ's condition and the beating and prodding it had to take in the—"
"I didn't say it was female," Murchison broke in, "though it may be. In many ways it is a far more interesting life-form than the blind one."
"Save your mental energy for the one we know is intelligent," Conway snapped at her. There was a moment's silence, broken only by the background hiss from the suit radio. Then he apologized: "Ignore me, please, I've got a bad headache."
"Me, too," Fletcher said. "I expect it is caused by the noise and subsonic effects of the vibration of all this moving machinery. If his headache is half as bad as mine you can forgive him, ma'am, and if you could have some helpful medication ready when we return to the ship—"
"Make that three," said Murchison. "My head has been aching since I came back here, and I was exposed to the noise and vibration for only a few minutes. And I've bad news for you: The headache does not respond to medication."
She broke contact. "Doesn't it seem strange," Fletcher asked worriedly, "that three people who breathed the air in this ship are suffering from—"
"Back at the hospital," Conway broke in, "they have a saying that psychosomatic aches are contagious and incurable. Murchison's analyzer checked the ship's atmosphere for toxic material, and any alien bugs present are just not interested in us. This particular headache could be a product of anxiety, tension, or a combination of various psychological factors. But because it is affecting all three of us at once, and all three of us have spent some time inside the ship, it is probable that the headache is being caused by some outside agency, very likely the noise and vibration from that corridor, and you were right the first time. I'm sorry I mentioned it."
"If you hadn't," said Fletcher, "I certainly would have done so. It is quite unpleasant and is affecting my ability to concentrate on these—"
There was another interruption from the outer hull.
"Haslam, sir. Chen and I have finished charting the extent of the sounds and vibration. They occupy a narrow band, perhaps two meters wide, which coincides with what you have called the corridor cage. The corridor runs right around the ship in a constant-radius circle, which is completed by the arc containing the control pods. But that's not all, sir. The corridor intersects the area occupied by the two survivors."
Fletcher looked at Conway. "If I could only stop this mechanical torture chamber, or whatever it is, we might be able to squeeze through it to the survivors ... But no, if it started up again when someone was inside, it would batter them to death. Very well," he said to Haslam, "is there anything else to report?"
"Well, sir," Haslam replied hesitantly. "This may not mean anything, but we have headaches too."
For a long time there was silence while the Captain and Conway thought about the two Rhabwar officers' headaches. The men had been outside the ship at all times, making contact with the hull plating infrequently and then only through their magnetic boots and gauntlets—both of which had padded and insulated interiors capable of damping out mechanical vibration. Besides, sounds did not travel through a vacuum. Conway could think of nothing that would explain the two men's headaches, but not so the Captain.
"Dodds," Fletcher said suddenly to the officer he had left in the Rhabwar. "Run a sensor recheck for radiation emanating from this ship. It may not have been present until I started pushing buttons. Also, check for possibly harmful radiation associated with the nearby star cluster."
Conway gave a nod of approval, which the Captain did not see. Even flat on his back with a thumping headache making it difficult to think and with one arm disappearing into an alien control pod in which an unguarded touch could cause anything from the lights going out to an unscheduled Jump into hyperspace, Fletcher was doing all right. But the sensor reading, according to Dodds, cleared the alien ship and the space around them of any trace of harmful radiation. They were still thinking about this when the timid voice of Prilicla broke the silence.
"Friend Conway," called the empath, "I have delayed making this report until I was sure of my feelings, but there can no longer be any doubt. The condition of both survivors is improving steadily."
"Thank you, Prilicla," said Conway. "That will give us more time to think of a way of rescuing them." To Fletcher, he added, "But why the sudden improvement?"
The Captain looked at the corridor cage and its outgrowth of furiously waving and jabbing metal and said "Could that have anything to do with it?"
"I don't know," said Conway, grinning in relief because the chances of a successful rescue had increased. "Certainly the noise alone is fit to wake the nearly dead."
The Captain looked disapprovingly at him, plainly unable to see anything funny in the remark or the situation. Very seriously, he said, "I have checked and rechecked all of the flat rocker switches within reach. That particular form of actuator is the only kind suited to the short feeler pads possessed by the blind ones, because as manipulators the pads lack strength and leverage. But I have found something that feels like a lever, several inches long and terminating in a narrow reverse-conical handle. The cone is hollow and is probably designed to accommodate the tip of the blind one's horn or sting. The lever is positioned at a forty-five-degree angle to its seating, which is the limit of its travel in the up direction. I intend moving it downwards.
"In case something calamitous happens as a result, we should seal our helmets," Fletcher added. He closed his helmet visor and replaced the gauntlet he had removed earlier. Then he reached inside the opening without hesitation, obviously knowing exactly where his hand was going.
In the corridor cage all mechanical activity ceased abruptly. The silence was so complete that when someone scraped a magnetic boot against the outer hull the noise made Conway start. The Captain was smiling as he got to his feet and opened his visor again.
"The survivors are at the other end of this corridor, Doctor," he said, then added, "if we can just get to them."
But they found it completely impossible to wriggle through the thicket of projecting metal rods and bars. Even when the Captain took off his spacesuit to try it, he was successful only in collecting a number of cuts and abrasions. Disappointed, Fletcher climbed into his suit again and began attacking the metal projections with his cutter. But the metal was tough and required several seconds at maximum power before each metal bar was burned through. There were so many of the things it was like weeding a metal garden a stalk at a time, the Captain observed crossly. He had cleared less than two meters of the corridor cage when they were forced back to the airlock because of the buildup of heat.
"It's no good," said the Captain. "We can cut a way through to them, but only in short stages with lengthy delays in between to allow the excess heat to dissipate by conduction through the fabric of the ship and to radiate into space. There is also the danger that the heat might melt the insulation on some of their power-control circuitry, with unknown results."
He tapped the wall beside him with his fist, so hard that it might almost have been a display of temper. "Emptying the storage spaces of nutrient soil would also be a long job, necessitating as it would the movement of the soil in installments from the storage spaces to the corridor to the lock and out, and we have no idea what structural problems could then arise inside those compartments. I'm beginning to think the only thing to do is cut a way in from outside. But there are problems there, too ..."
Cutting down to the survivors through the double hull of the ship would generate a lot of heat, especially inside the portable lock they would have to use to guard against accidentally depressurizing the vessel. Once again, lengthy delays would be required to allow the heat to radiate away, although the process would be faster since they would already be on the outer hull. There was also the problem of cutting through the mechanical linkages to the bars and pistons projecting into the corridor, which would tend to generate a lot of heat inside the ship, heat which might have an adverse effect on the survivors. The only advantage was that they would not run the risk of being beaten to death by metal bars if as a result of their cutting operations the system switched itself on again.
"... And by the way, Doctor," Fletcher added, changing from his lecturing tone, "my headache is fading."
Conway was telling him that his own headache was diminishing as well when Prilicla broke into the conversation. "Friend Fletcher, I have been monitoring; emotional radiation of the survivors since you halted the corridor mechanisms. Their condition has deteriorated steadily since then, and they are now in the state similar to that detected on our arrival, or perhaps a little worse. Friend Fletcher, we could easily lose them."
"That ... that doesn't make sense!" the Captain burst out. He looked appealingly at Conway.
Conway could imagine Prilicla trembling inside its spacesuit at the Captain's outburst and the emotional radiation accompanying it. But he could just barely imagine the effort it had taken for the little empath, who found it acutely painful to disagree with anyone, to speak as it had. "Perhaps not," he said quickly to Fletcher, "but there is one way of finding out."
Fletcher gave him an angry, puzzled look, but he moved to the control pod opening and a few seconds later the noise and mechanical activity in the corridor had returned. So had Conway's headache.
Prilicla said, "The condition of the survivors is improving again."
"How much did they improve last time?" asked Conway. "And would you be able to tell by their emotional radiation if one being was about to attack another?"
"Both survivors were fully conscious for a few minutes," Prilicla replied. "Their radiation was so strong that I was able to reduce the area of uncertainty of their position. They are within two meters of each other, and neither of them was or is contemplating an attack."
"Are you telling me," the Captain said in a baffled tone, "that a fully conscious FSOJ and a blind one are as close together as that without the animal wanting to attack it?"
"Maybe the blind one found a locker or something to hide in," said Conway, "and to the FSOJ it is a case of out of sight, out of mind."
"Excuse me," said Prilicla. "There is no way that I can tell with absolute certainty that the two beings are of different species. The quality of their emotional radiation strongly suggests this. One is emoting anger and pain and little else while the other's emotions possess the complexity of a rational mind. But would it help you if you considered the possibility that they are both blind ones, one of whom has suffered gross brain damage, which is causing the raw, mindless level of emoting which I have detected."
"A nice theory, Doctor Prilicla," said the Captain. He winced and instinctively put his hands to his head, only to have them stopped short by his helmet. "It explains their close proximity, but it does not explain why their condition is affected by the corridor mechanisms. Unless I damaged the controls in some fashion, and accidentally made a connection between the corridor control lever and some emergency life-support equipment, perhaps a medical therapy unit or ... I feel completely and utterly confused!"
"Everyone is feeling confused, friend Fletcher," said the empath. "The general emotional radiation leaves no doubt of that."
"Let's go back to the ship," said Conway suddenly. "I need some peace and quiet to think."
They left the blind ones' ship with Chen on watch with instructions to keep his distance and on no account to make physical contact with the vessel's structure. Prilicla returned with them, saying that the emotional radiation from the two survivors was strong enough for it to be monitored at a distance, since the condition of both was continuing to improve while the corridor mechanisms were still operating.
Entering by the Casualty Deck lock, they headed straight for the lab, which was occupied by a bloodstained Murchison and numerous pieces of FSOJ and blind ones spread around the dissecting tables. Naydrad joined them as Conway asked the Captain to project a plan view diagram of the blind ones' ship, incorporating the latest data. Fletcher looked relieved at having something to occupy him, since it was obvious that he did not share the close professional interest of the others in the pieces of extra-terrestrial raw meat scattered about the place.
When the diagram appeared on the lab's display screen, Conway asked the Captain to correct him if he went wrong anywhere, then he began reviewing their problem.
Like most major problems this one was composed of a number of smaller ones, some of which were susceptible to solution. There was the blind ones' ship, which preliminary technical investigation showed to be structurally sound and in a fully powered-up condition. The vessel's configuration was that of a disk that tapered in thickness towards the circumference. At the center was a circle of perhaps one third the radius of the ship, which enclosed the power generation and associated equipment. Outside this area and enclosing it was a circular corridor linked to the airlock by a straight section of corridor, giving the appearance in the plan view of a sickle with a circular blade whose tip almost reached its handle. The short arc that joined the tip to the top of the handle was occupied by the control pods of the blind ones.
Beyond the circular corridor was the life-support area for both the crew and their captives. Proportionately, the volume of the ship devoted to the FSOJ life-form meant that the vessel had been designed specifically for the purpose of transporting these creatures. The lighting, atmosphere, FSOJ food dispenser and exercise space left no doubt about that.
Conway paused for a moment to look at Fletcher and the others, but there were no arguments. Then he went on: "The arrangement of rapidly moving bars and pistons in the caged corridor, particularly the ones with pointed and club-like extremities, worries me because I cannot accept the idea that the FSOJs are being used solely for the purpose of torture. I prefer the idea that they are being trained, perhaps domesticated, for a very special reason. One does not design an interstellar ship around a non-sentient life-form unless the creature is extremely valuable to the designers.
"We must therefore ask ourselves what the FSOJ has that the blind ones haven't," Conway went on. "What is it that they need most?"
