Double Contact (14 page)

Three fat, piglike animals with mottled yellow-and-brown skin, narrow, conical heads, and sticklike legs were wading in the shallows, nibbling at the flowers or pulling up the subsurface greenery. When Murchison's shadow fell across them they made bleating noises and ran splashing up the bank to disappear into the long vegetation that was not grass. From all over the clearing and under the surrounding trees came the sound of more bleating, and a much larger version of the same animal pushed through the greenery to stand and look at them for a moment before apparently losing interest and moving away.

“That must have been Mama or Papa,” said Murchison. “But have you noticed, even the adult life-form is placid and unafraid and without aggressive tendencies or obvious natural weapons, and so far we've seen no sign of any predators or prey. Prilicla would just love this place. Have you seen any signs of bird life?”

Murchison went down on one knee and shaded her eyes with both hands in an attempt to reduce sky reflection while she studied the subsurface features more closely. A few minutes later she stood up again.

“None,” said Danalta, “but one must expect strangeness on a strange planet. Are you ready to move on?”

The ground ahead began to slope more sharply, and a few minutes later they found the natural spring that was the source of the stream bubbling out of a crevice in the ground that was now showing several flat outcroppings of rock. The trunks and branches of the trees competing for the green areas between them were stunted and carried fewer blossoms and buds so that the insect population was proportionately diminished. But it was still a beautiful and relaxing place, especially with the breeze off the ocean finding its way through the thinning vegetation and cooling her face. Murchison took a deep breath of fresh, scented air and let it out again in a sound that was a combination of a laugh and a sigh of sheer pleasure.

Danalta, who found no pleasure in fresh air, smells, or environmental beauty, extruded a pointing hand and said impatiently. “We're within fifty meters of the highest point of the island.”

The rounded summit was covered sparsely by trees, but not enough of them to obstruct their all-around view over the island. Through the gaps in the intervening foliage, Murchison could make out tiny areas of ocean, beach, and a section of the white medical-station buildings. A scuffling sound on the ground made her swing around to look at Danalta.

Its beach-ball configuration was collapsing, flattening out, and spreading across the ground like a mottled red, yellow, and green pancake. Suddenly it rolled itself up into a long, cylindrical, caterpillar shape with a great many legs, before heading for the highest tree. She watched as it wound itself around the lower trunk corkscrew-fashion and began to climb rapidly.

“The view from up there will be much better,” it said.

Murchison laughed and moved to follow it. Silently she was calling herself all kinds of a fool because if she were to become a casualty through falling out of a tree she would never live it down. But she was feeling like a child again, when tree-climbing had figured high among her accomplishments, and the sun was shining and all was right with this world and she just didn't care.

“Earth-human DBDGs can climb trees, too,” she said. “Our prehistoric ancestors did it all the time.”

A few minutes later she was as close to the top as it was safe to go, with one arm wrapped around the trunk and a branch that looked strong enough to bear her weight gripped tightly between her knees. Danalta, whose latest body-shape enabled it to distribute its weight more evenly than her own, was clinging to the thinner branches a few meters above her. The view over the island and beyond was perfect.

In all directions they could see across the dark green, uneven carpet of treetops and clearings to the ragged edges where it met the beach. The medical station looked like a collection of white building-blocks standing in the dark, lengthening shadows of approaching evening, and the ocean was empty except for a tight group of pale blue swellings that were probably the mountaintops of a large island that was below the horizon. Danalta extruded an appendage to point slightly to one side of the distant mountains.

“Look,” it said. “I can see a bird. Do you?”

Murchison stared hard in the indicated direction. She thought she saw a tiny, fuzzy speck almost touching the horizon, but it could just as easily have been her imagination.

“I can't be sure.…” she began, and broke off to stare at the thick cylindrical member that was growing out of the top of Danalta's head. “Now what are you doing?”

“I'm maximizing my visual acuity,” it replied, “by positioning a lens of long focal length the required distance from my retina and making small focusing adjustments. Since the material is organic and the viewing base is moving perceptibly in the wind, some distortion is to be expected, but I'm sure that I can resolve the image to show…”

“You mean you're growing a telescope?” she broke in. “Dr. Danalta, you never cease to surprise me.”

“Definitely some kind of bird,” it said—obviously pleased at the compliment—and went on, “with a small body; wide, narrow wings; and a triangular tail whose outer edges are uneven. At this distance the size is uncertain. It appears to be dark brown or grey in color and nonreflective. It has a short, thick neck but I cannot resolve any details of the head and there are no other body projections, so presumably its legs are folded for aerodynamic reasons. The wings do not appear to be beating and it seems to be soaring on the air currents. It is close to the horizon and shows no sign of dropping below it.

“Birds did not evolve on my home planet,” it went on, “but I have studied the various species with a view to possible mimicry. So far, the general appearance and behavior of this one resembles that of a carrion-eater found on your own planet. At this range anything else I could tell you would be mostly guesswork.”

“Let's go back to the station,” said Murchison quietly. “I want to be there before sunset.”

Danalta had spotted the planet's first bird, she thought, as she climbed to the ground, and it seemed to be the equivalent of an outsized vulture, with all that that implied. It was silly to feel so disappointed just because this perfect-seeming world had shown its first imperfection.

CHAPTER 14

Captain Fletcher and Lieutenant Dodds were being extremely careful, Prilicla noted with approval, and displaying a level of vigilance that elevated caution to the status of a major art form. This time they were using
Rhabwar
's pinnace, a vehicle normally used for evacuating space-wreck casualties whose condition was not serious enough to require litters, to move a variety of specially insulated test equipment to a more convenient distance from the investigation site. All of the analyzers had one or more backups, in case they probed a sensitive area and the alien ship killed the instrument stone-dead as it had done to
Terragar
's sensors.

Not for the first time the captain was reminding them that the test instruments and even the pinnace were expendable, but not the people using them, which was the reason why they were wearing insulated, self-powered space suits.

Rhabwar
maintained its distance with a communications channel open while they edged to a stop a few meters above the damaged area of the alien's hull, then tethered their vehicle loosely to it with a simple magnetic pad attached to a nonconducting cable.

“Sir,” the lieutenant said as they were exiting the vehicle, “Dr. Prilicla says that this damaged area of hull—what it calls the surface wound—has apparently become desensitized to outside stimuli and we can safely make contact there. But shouldn't we check to make sure that other areas haven't been affected by now, due to a power leakage or other deterioration in its sensor circuitry? I suggest making a few random tests. It might be that this metal carcass is dead by now and our precautions are wasting time.”

“If it can be done without you killing yourself, Lieutenant,” said the captain, “then do it. You agree, Doctor?”

“Yes,” said Prilicla. “That information would be helpful, friend Dodds. Especially if you can find another access hatch that is closer to the ship's brain section. From here we'll have to travel the internal walkways for more than half the length of the ship. But be very careful.”

“Of course,” said Dodds. “This might be the only life I've got.”

They watched as it positioned its powered suit a few meters from the hull and began the first slow, lateral circuit of the ship that became a spiral leading forward. Several times the lieutenant disappeared from view and Prilicla felt the captain's controlled worrying, but Dodds was in sight when it made its find.

“Sir,” it said excitedly, “I've found what could be a cargo loading hatch. It's about ten meters in diameter, flush-fitting, and the joins are so fine I almost missed them. Inset is a two-foot rectangle, that looks as if it might give access to the actuator controls. Along one side there is a group of three recessed buttons, but I won't touch them until I have some idea of what they do and, in case they're booby-trapped in some way, the order in which they should be pressed. I'm moving closer with the sensor now. The magnetic pads are holding it to the hull. I've switched on. So far, no response from the ship.”

The captain's level of worrying peaked then began to subside. It didn't speak.

“I'm using minimum power on the sensor,” the lieutenant went on, “so the image I'm getting is by induction rather than direct contact with the underlying circuitry, and pretty vague. The wiring is complex, and active. To trace the leads to the three actuator buttons, I'll need to clarify the picture by using a little more power.… Bloody hell, the ship just did a
Terragar
on it! I'm sorry, sir, we need another K-three-thirty sensor. This one just died.”

“Don't worry about it,” said Fletcher. “It's expendable. You're not. Continue your search aft, report anything you find, and then get back here and follow us inside. We'll have to go in the long way.”

To Prilicla it went on. “This vessel's weapons system baffles me. So far there has been no sign of missile launchers, focused radiation projectors, or anything that might be an other-species equivalent. They could still be there and I just didn't recognize them, but … I'm reminded of a porcupine.”

Prilicla didn't ask the obvious question because he knew it would be answered when the other's thoughts stopped moving too fast for any possible verbal communication. They were inside the ship at the first junction of the netting walkways and turning in the direction of the control section before the other spoke.

“It is a small, non-sapient Earth life-form,” the captain went on, “with a soft body that has no natural weapons of attack, but it possesses an overall covering of body-spines that are long and sharp enough to discourage predators. If that was the situation here, then killing
Terragar
's operating systems could have been a mistaken act of self-defense because the aliens didn't know our ship was simply trying to give assistance.”

“A not entirely comforting theory, friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla. “It infers that there are other species, or perhaps other members of their own species, who wanted to attack it. Why? Do they consider it a threat of some kind, or their prey? Either way, they were able to inflict heat and blast damage. Remember, offensive weapons were used against this vessel.”

“I know,” said the captain. It continued pulling itself along the netting for a moment before it added, “But I'm beginning to wonder about that, too.”

It did not elaborate although its emotional radiation was characteristic of a mind engaged in intense cerebration. Dodds reported finding another large hatch, presumably used for loading fuel or cargo, close to the stern thrusters, then it rejoined them while they were still halfway along the central walkway and heading forward. There it was that a robot crew member—perhaps the same one, Prilicla suggested quietly, or maybe it was the only one—emerged from a side walkway and began pulling itself rapidly along the netting to meet them. It stopped about five meters from the captain, who was in the lead, and spread itself out starfish-fashion with its six hands gripping strands of the netting and barring their path towards the control section.

“The last time this happened, Doctor,” Fletcher said, “you were alone, you gave it a gentle push, and it moved back. Presumably the action was not meant as an obstruction so much as a warning to move carefully. Do you agree? I'll try a very gentle push, with my feet. In case it tries to shock me, my boots have thicker insulation.”

The captain moved close, spread out its hands to grasp the netting on both sides to stabilize itself, then very slowly and carefully brought its feet forward to stop a few inches from the center of the robot's body. Its push was gentle to the point of imperceptibility.

There was no response. It pushed a little harder, then with steadily increasing pressure, but the robot only clung more tightly to the netting without moving back an inch.

“Friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla, “move back a little and let me past.”

Without speaking but radiating puzzlement and impatience, the other did so and flattened itself against the netting while Prilicla's pressure globe squeezed past. A few seconds later he touched the robot's body gently. Immediately it released its grip on the netting and moved back slowly towards Control. Prilicla did likewise, but as soon as Fletcher and Dodds began to follow him, it barred the way again. The meaning of its action was plain.

“Why will it allow you past and not us?” said the captain. “Does it think Earth-humans are stronger and more of a physical threat to it than a Cinrusskin? It's right, of course. But I've made no threatening moves towards it or … I don't understand this.”