Chindi

Chapter 30

TOR’S CONDITION HAD deteriorated from nervousness to dismay to despair.

To give him his due, he was not only afraid for himself, but a grim conviction crept over him that something terrible had happened to the Memphis. Maybe another of those ship-eating gadgets that had jumped the Wendy. Or maybe they’d never gotten out of the Slurpy. It was distinctly possible they were all dead.

That Hutch was lost among them. What else could explain their silence?

The days passed, and the chindi floated quietly among the stars, where anyone who happened to be in the neighborhood could easily collect him. But no one came.

He could go outside now that the ship had stopped (or seemed to have stopped), and often did. He wandered across the bare rock, searching the stars for moving lights, asking his commlink why someone, somewhere, didn’t answer up. Even if something had gone wrong on the Memphis, Mogambo was out there somewhere. And Mogambo knew he needed rescuing.

He ate well. There was plenty of food and no reason to ration. His power supply would last only a few more days. If that ran out before Hutch, or somebody, got to him, life support would fail. He’d then have only the six-hour supply in his air tanks.

The reddimeals prepared for Academy personnel were not at all bad as field rations went, and he enjoyed mandarin steak and meat loaf, chicken teriyaki, and gulliver stew. He had BLTs and pork sandwiches, and he drank too much wine.

Several times he started a journal, determined to leave a final record for whoever eventually showed up. The long nights without rescue, without any reasonable explanation why no rescue came, began to wear him down. He was inclined to conclude that he would die there. That he should make his peace with his Creator.

So he wrote. And he drew.

The entries, reviewed each morning (he insisted on maintaining the diurnal standard in this timeless place), invariably sounded angry and bitter. It wasn’t the tone he wanted to convey. But it was hard to pretend to be cheerful.

His sketches, he thought, captured the ghostly chambers and the empty doorways. He gave humanity to the werewolf, and compassion to the war between the airships.

If the worst had happened, if the Memphis had indeed been lost, Mogambo and the Longworth knew about his predicament. Last he’d heard, Mogambo had been approaching the Twins. That put him out of radio range.

He looked at the relay transmitter and wished he’d learned something about electronics. The device was capable of putting out a long-range signal. But the chindi had to complete its jump first to arm it, or whatever the proper term might be. It wouldn’t start transmitting until it had reached its destination.

Maybe Mogambo thought Hutch had already taken him off. Who knew? Certainly no one was telling him anything.

So he waited, hoping to hear Hutch on the link. Somebody on the link.

Anybody.

HE’D READ SOMEWHERE that banks and churches and corporate headquarters and other public buildings were designed to large scale, with thick columns and high arches and vaulted ceilings, because it induced a sense of insignificance in the individual. One could not help feeling humble walking up the broad stone steps of the Amalgamated Transportation Corporation, Limited, in London.

The endless passageways of the chindi had the same effect.

He was of no consequence to the ship, its designers, its operators, or its mission. Like the greater universe outside, it was not at all mindful of him. He could even play vandal if he liked and do a little damage. But it would be very little, no one would notice, and in the end the ship’s sheer impassiveness would overwhelm him.

He would have slept out among the stars, had it been possible. But the six-hour limitations of his air tanks kept him anchored to the base.

So it occurred to him finally that being several kilometers from the exit hatch wasn’t a good idea. He deflated the dome and moved it to Main Street and set it back up in the passageway almost directly under the exit. He needed several trips to transport the supplies and gear and air and water tanks, but when it was finished he looked at it with a sense of satisfaction. He liked the exit hatch. Not only did being near it give him his best possible chance to get through this, but he also slept better knowing the way out was just a few steps away.