All Judgment Fled (9 page)

 

 

But McCullough had conducted his examination of the hapless pilot as if
he had been engaged on a slightly premature post-mortem . . .

 

 

"Now we must decide what to do next. I'd like the doctor and Major
Walters to put forward any suggestions they may have. After all, you
two have more Ship experience than anyone else. How do you see the
situation now?"

 

 

"I can't see anything," Walters said hoarsely. "My throat is too sore . . ."

 

 

There was an irritated, overamplified sigh from the speaker grill.
McCullough nodded quickly to Walters, thought for a moment, then began
to speak.

 

 

So far as he was concerned, the trip inside the alien vessel had not answered
any of the major questions regarding its origin and purpose. It remained
a hulking brute of a ship nearly half a mile long, orbiting the sun
at a distance of one hundred and sixty million miles, seemingly in a
powered-down condition and refusing to acknowledge all signals. The
precision with which it had been inserted into orbit, together with the
reactions of what must have been a damage-control party of its crew,
seemed to rule out the earlier theory that the Ship was in a derelict
or distressed condition.

 

 

Present indications were that it was deliberately refusing contact because
it was here merely to conduct a survey of some description. Perhaps they
did not want contact with an inferior race, or had orders forbidding such
contact. McCullough was very careful to use the word 'survey' rather
than 'reconnaissance,' but he was afraid the people at home would jump
to conclusions no matter which word he used.

 

 

So far as the physical structure of the Ship was concerned, photographic
and other observations made it clear that it had not been designed to
withstand massive accelerations or even a takeoff from an average planet.
However, if the netting they had observed covered all the corridors in
the ship, it was unlikely that they had gravity control either inside the
ship or as a means of propulsion. Since there were no rocket venturis or
any other visible signs of conventional reaction propulsion capable of
moving such a massive vessel, it seemed obvious that whatever method of
propulsion was being used, the ship remained in the weightless condition
whether it was under power or not.

 

 

Where the crew of the alien ship was concerned, they had a little more
to go on.

 

 

"In addition to the physiological details in the photographs,"
McCullough went on, "which will tell us a lot when we have a chance
to study them properly, we know that the crew is composed of three
distinct species. The alien with the white fur or clothing seemed to be
in a position of authority or influence over the others -- even though
their curiosity regarding us must have been intense, they left the area
as soon as Type Three appeared."

 

 

McCullough went on, "The second type, which we encountered first when
Walters was attacked, is much more aggressive or impulsive than Type
Three. As I see it, the Three is their equivalent of an officer, while
the Twos are a damage-control party of crew members who were angered by
the damage to their lock's hydraulic system, and expressed their anger
by taking a swipe at Walters. But if we assume that their orders were
to ignore us and let the repairs wait until after we had gone away, and
Type Three arrived on the scene to remind the others of their orders in
no uncertain terms and to chase them off . . ."

 

 

"They followed the Three," Walters put in. "It didn't chase them . . ."

 

 

"I don't think that matters," said McCullough, then continued, "Taking
a swipe at one of us is, in the circumstances, an understandable reaction.
It is not a friendly reaction, of course, but it does show that we have
certain emotional responses in common which could form a basis for a
wider understanding in time --
if
we are allowed to maintain
contact with them.

 

 

"I, personally, do not think we will be.

 

 

"For there can be no doubt that they know we are here," McCullough ended
seriously. "Perhaps they have known about us from the moment we left Earth.
But we are not welcome here and we should leave before they take more
positive steps to discourage us."

 

 

For a long time there was silence, then Berryman said, "Surely we've come
too far just to turn and run. We can investigate and photograph those
hyperdrive blisters, or whatever they are, without actually entering
the Ship. I agree it is good sense to run away, but make it tomorrow or
sometime next week . . ."

 

 

"I -- I agree,"
said Hollis from P-One. The overamplification
which made the colonel's voice sound authoritative simply magnified the
physicist's timidity.
"Accurate photographs of those generators --
which must be connected with their propulsion system -- might not give
us everything we want to know, but they would at least keep our people
from following too many useless avenues of research.
"At the same time I agree with the doctor. We should not go into the Ship
again if we aren't welcome . . ."

 

 

There came a sound of Morrison's throat being cleared, and Hollis broke
off. Obviously the colonel was willing for the other to speak so long
as he said the right things, and talking about leaving was not one of
the right things, so it was equally obvious that the colonel also wanted
to stay.

 

 

Walters found his voice suddenly and said, "We made a mistake by damaging
their lock mechanism, but that doesn't necessarily mean they will chase
us away like small boys caught robbing an orchard! That would be too --
too petty an act for a race capable of interstellar flight . . ."

 

 

"I'd like to think so, too," McCullough said sharply. "But I keep
remembering the petty things we did in the sailing ship and stagecoach
era, and how many of us are still doing them."

 

 

"But we're unarmed!" Berryman broke in. "Our ships are downright primitive
by their standards. And in a sense we belong to the same club. Space
travel is not as dangerous for them as for us, of course, but . . ."

 

 

"But you feel," McCullough finished for him, with a sarcastic edge to his
voice, "that the alien captain should pipe the plucky primitives aboard
with full honors. Don't you think it possible that this sort of thing
may have happened many times to this particular ship? Maybe they are a
little tired of primitives busting a gut to get out to look over their
ships. So much so, perhaps, that they won't even toss a metaphorical
coin into the water to see us do tricks for them because of the danger
of us fouling their metaphorical propellors."

 

 

"Walters' idea of the alien might be too noble," Berryman protested,
"but yours is too base and cynical. This isn't like you, Doctor."

 

 

"No indeed," said Walters, stifling a cough. "And aren't we forgetting
that practically
all
of this is sheer guesswork? They might not be
noble or base. They might not even be all that far advanced technically,
judging by their ship's construction. And I don't think we should run
away until we at least know what we are running away from. McCullough
is completely off-base in this."

 

 

"Calm down, gentlemen. We are not going to leave, not immediately and
not even next week. It seems Control have been keeping us in the dark --
for our peace of mind, they say -- about certain new developments which
make it necessary for us to stay put. The period mentioned was a minimum
of three weeks.
"You see, our people were a little late in cutting the transmission to
the networks when things became exciting at the Ship, and the political
side effects have yet to be evaluated. At the present time I am receiving
new, modified, amended or downright contradictory orders on an average
of three times a day . . ."

 

 

The incident on the Ship had gone out in its entirety, via translators
or commentators where non-English speaking nations were concerned, to
practically everyone on Earth. Prometheus had wanted to cut transmission,
but a quite incredible amount of pressure had been brought to bear on them
to continue relaying the signals from the Alien -- it was already being
capitalized and used in the same sentences with words like Invader and
Enemy -- so far as the colonel knew, they would still receive everything
he sent. He had used his discretion, however, regarding the signals
recently received from P-Two.

 

 

Already there was talk of trebling NASA's appropriation, building an
armada, knitting warm sweaters -- public reaction was fluid and still
somewhat confused, but the general feeling was that something positive
should be done. It was being suggested that the U.S. and Russia pool
their space capability against the common enemy . . .

 

 

". . . The Russians would already be out here with us if they hadn't
jumped the gun by launching that rather ambitious manned Venus Orbiting
Station just before the Ship appeared, and their present capability may
be stretched to the limit keeping it supplied. However, if our stay out
here becomes extended, Biakonur have offered Prometheus the use of two
of their high-acceleration supply vehicles, with no strings attached
other than that they must not be used to carry weapons.
"You will appreciate the political implications which have grown out of
our handling of this situation -- our bungled handling of the first contact,
some say. The U.N. are being quite critical . . .
"But now we must try to devise tactics to cover this situation. You are all
free to interrupt and offer suggestions at any time . . ."

 

 

The first interruption came within seconds, from Berryman, who suggested
very strongly that it would be a criminal waste of opportunity to run
away without trying to find out a little more about alien science and,
if possible, culture, adding that any tactics used against the aliens
must be purely defensive. Hollis, Walters and McCullough interrupted to
agree with this, and Drew said that considering the relative sizes of
the vessels concerned, they had no choice.

 

 

Irritated, Morrison replied that he had no intention of declaring
war on anybody, and would they all please make their suggestions more
constructive and less general in nature.

 

 

Finally it was decided that P-One and P-Two would be joined together
nose-to-nose. There was provision for doing this in design, and the
result would be that Walters would have access to both command modules
without having to don a spacesuit. There would also be a saving in power
by having one life-support system serve two ships, since it might come
about that the other men would be absent on the alien Ship for extended
periods of time. The duties of this single watch-keeping officer would
be to maintain contact with the men investigating the alien vessel and
Prometheus Control, and to report progress.

 

 

Drew had a lot to say on the subject of defensive weapons. They had no
intention of hurting, much less killing, anyone on the alien Ship. But
if they did re-enter the vessel, they would have to have a means of
protecting themselves and their irreplaceable spacesuits from injury. With
the aid of the doctor's as yet incomplete physiological data on the known
alien life-forms, they devised and built a prototype weapon, rather like
a ski stick, which would fend off aliens and prick them lightly if they
became too persistent.

 

 

They discussed alien motivation and possible methods of communication at
great length, and somehow it became an accepted, although not formally
agreed fact that they
would
go aboard the alien Ship again . . .

 

 

Many hours later, while they were closing with P-One for the docking
operation, Walters said hoarsely, "I'm sorry for what I said back there,
Doctor. But you put up such a good, sensible case for leaving, I thought
the colonel might decide there and then to do just that, and this is
such a unique opportunity for -- for . . ."

 

 

"Getting clobbered?" Berryman asked, grinning. He went on, "But I wouldn't
apologize, Walters, if I were you. It seems to me that if your mind was
capable of really devious thinking, and if you weren't just an
amateur
psychologist, you would have realized by now that he was indulging in a
piece of psychological sleight of hand. Probably he had it all worked
out with the colonel in advance -- talking good, sound common sense,
verbalizing all our own secret fears and survival instincts, then making
us argue against them to show how superior we thought we were to him. In
short, and to mix a metaphor slightly, propping up our weakening resolve
with an obviously broken reed.

 

 

"Not that he is likely to admit any of this, of course."

 

 

They were both staring at him.

 

 

McCullough felt his face burning, but deep inside him there was another
and much more pleasant feeling of warmth. It occurred to him suddenly
that there were none so blind as those who could see perfectly, but shut
their eyes because they happened to be looking at a friend.

 

 

"It's a thought," said McCullough. To himself he added,
A happy
afterthought . . .

 

 

 

 

chapter ten

 

 

As the only member of the expedition with both a spacesuit and firsthand
alien experience, McCullough was placed in charge of the second boarding
party. Those were the reasons given by Morrison and, without actually
saying so, the others gave McCullough the impression that they considered
it a sensible arrangement.