Iceworld

14

It was not, in the end, his own discouragement which caused the cessation of Roger’s nocturnal watchings. The night on which the Sarrians tested the armor was, indeed, the last of these journeys; but this was owing to reasons beyond the boy’s control. When he descended in the morning, his father met him and accompanied him outside. There he pointed out certain footprints. Then they went up to Roger’s room together, and the rope came to light. Mr. Wing concluded the proceedings with a request for an explanation.

“Don’t get the idea that anyone tattled,” he added. “I don’t know whether you have anyone in your confidence, even. Both your mother and I saw that you were getting most of your sleep done daytimes. Well, what’s the story?”

Roger never even thought of lying. The family custom of proving questionable statements on challenge had taught him, as it had the other children, to recognize evidence and forego useless denial. The only question in his mind was whether to tell or not. He knew there would be no punishment if he refused; but also, there would be no help from his father on a problem that was decidedly beyond his own abilities, and there would most certainly be no more night journeys in search of landing torpedoes. He told what had happened, with all the detail the near-eidetic memory of childhood could evoke. His father was silent for a minute or two when he had finished.

“We’ll say nothing about your following Don and me,” he said at last. “You were never told in so many words not to, and curiosity is a healthy trait. Of course you let yourself get caught in the woods at night without food, water or light, and that is a more serious matter in view of the fact that you’re supposed to know better. However, the story being as interesting as it is, I guess we’ll suspend sentence on that offense.” Roger grinned.

“What would the sentence have been?”

“The logical one would be restriction to the half-mile circle for a week or two. You certainly behaved like a six-year-old. Let’s consider that that’s hanging over your head, and go on to more immediate matters. I suppose Edie knows all about this?”

“She knows about what happened that night. Not about the times I’ve gone out since.”

“All right. After breakfast, get her and come with me. We have a number of things to talk over.”

It turned out that Don was also at the meeting. This was held in a little natural amphitheater a few yards uphill from the house, which had been fitted with split-log benches. Mr. Wing wasted no time, but told the younger children the same story he had told Donald a few days before. Then Roger repeated his tale, mostly for his older brother’s benefit. Don had, of course, seen a Sarrian torpedo by this time, as he had been present when the first load of tobacco had been delivered a few days before; and there seemed to be little doubt that the structure Roger had encountered was of the same origin.

“I don’t understand why they’re shifting their base of operations after all these years.” Mr. Wing looked puzzled. “They’ve been coming back to that same gadget which we think is a directional transmitter every summer since before Don was born.”

“You don’t really know that they haven’t landed anywhere else, though,” pointed out Donald. “It just happened that Roger met one of their torpedoes. There might have been any number of others, anywhere on the earth.”

“That’s true, of course. Rog, you didn’t find any traces of other landings on these night walks of yours, did you?”

“I’m not sure, Dad. There’s a little patch of bushes all by itself on a hilltop out that way, that’s been burnt over. I couldn’t find any sign of a campfire, and there haven’t been any thunderstorms. I thought maybe one of the things had dropped something like the thing that burned my hand, and started the fire; but I couldn’t find anything of the sort. I don’t really know what started it.”

“I see. Then to sum up, we’ve been trading with creatures not native to this world for a long time; we may or may not be the only ones doing so; on at least one occasion they sent down a craft whose primary mission does not seem to have been trade.”

“Unless the light that Rog saw was intended to attract attention, as it did,” cut in Donald.

“In that case they would hardly have had their gold too hot to be touched. Furthermore, I’ve always refused gold — regular prospectors are competition enough without starting a rush of amateurs.”

“We don’t know that other people, if there have been any, felt the same way. But I guess you’re right about the temperature. They must have been conducting an experiment of their own, and the offer to trade was an afterthought when they heard Rog’s voice.”

“It was a dirty trick,” commented Roger.

“It may have been unintentional. Their knowledge of our language is extremely limited, and apparently they can’t see down here. Either they don’t know about television or can’t mount a transmitter in those torpedoes. Besides, if you came on them unexpectedly, they may have forgotten in the excitement of the moment that the gold would be hot. You said it was another container which was providing the light. However, that’s a point there’s not much use discussing.

“I had not planned to take this step until both Roger and Edie were older, and had had training enough to be of more help; but the matter seems to have been taken out of my control in that respect. What I want to do, and will need the help of all of you in doing, is to find out where these things are from, what sort of people are running them — and, if possible, how they work. I don’t have to tell you how important that knowledge would be. I have never tried to get outside experts on the job, because, as I told Don, I was afraid they’d let curiosity overcome prudence. I don’t want the torpedoes scared away by any hasty action. I’m too old to learn a new trade, for one thing.”

“Nuts!” It was Edie’s first contribution to the discussion, though she had listened intently to all that had gone before.

“What are we going to do?” Roger asked, rather more practically.

“First of all, you two will come with us the next time we trade. I may take the younger kids along too, only it’s quite a walk for them. You can listen in, watch, and generally see the whole thing for yourselves. After that, ideas will be in order. I was hoping, Rog, that you’d be an electronics expert by the time this happened. However, we’ll use what we have.”

“Maybe my trouble the other night could be put to use,” Roger suggested. “If they want tobacco badly enough to pay for it in platinum and iridium, they might Be in a mood to apologize.”

“Supposing they realize they hurt you, and could think of a way to transmit the apology. I won’t refuse an extra nugget or two if they choose to send them, but that won’t be very informative.”

“I suppose that’s so. Well, anyway, I’m going to go over the whole neighborhood of where I saw it and where you do your trading, by daylight. If they’ve made any other landings in the woods, I’ll find ‘em — that one broke a lot of branches, and left a dent in the ground the shape of the torpedo.”

If you think it’s worth doing,” remarked Don. “Why should they have landed in this neighborhood? Earth’s a pretty big place.”

“They did once, and I bet I know why!” retorted Roger. “That transmitter is right here! If you were exploring a new world or a new country even, would you make one landing here and another five hundred miles away? You would not. You’d get to know one neighborhood first, and plant an outpost, and then spread out from there.”

There was silence for two or three minutes while the others absorbed this.

“You’re assuming, then,” said Mr. Wing at last, “that after twenty years of mere trading, they suddenly are starting to explore? Why didn’t they do it sooner?”

“Unfair question.”

“True enough. All right, it’s certainly a usable working hypothesis. You may go ahead with your exploring — so may Edie if she wants. I’m not sold enough on your idea to spend the effort myself, but in a day or two I’ll signal for another torpedo. That will give you time to do any looking you want, I suppose?”

“Well—” Roger’s recent mapping activities had given him a much clearer idea than he had formerly held just what the examining of one square mile meant. “We can look around a bit, anyway. I’m going right now, if no one has any real ideas. Coming, Edie? The girl stood up silently, and followed him back to the house. Their father watched them go with some amusement.

“I wish I didn’t have a nagging worry about Rog’s theory,” he said suddenly to Donald. “He might just be right — these creatures might be tired of paying for tobacco and they certainly know more of physical science than we do.”

“They’ll have a fine time looking for the living weed in this neighborhood,” replied his son. “They’ll do better to stay on peaceful terms.”

“Just tell ‘em that, will you?” murmured Mr. Wing.

Roger and his sister wasted no time. This time there was no mistake in the matter of food; they hastily prepared some sandwiches — their mother had long since resigned herself to the fact that raids on the pantry were inseparable from common-sense rules of forest life — and with a canteen of water apiece they set out eastward. Billy and Marge were playing somewhere out of sight, so there was no trouble about leaving them home. Their father’s description had been clear enough so that they had no trouble in finding the Sarrian transmitter, and from there the two began their search. At Edie’s suggestion they split up, she taking the southern slopes on the line back to their home and Roger taking the northern. They agreed to keep to high ground as much as possible, and thus remain in earshot of each other most of the time. There was little point, in the time available, to look for traces in the woods; but it might be possible to sight either burned spots such as Roger had already seen or traces of disturbance in the upper branches of trees while looking from above. At any rate, more territory could be examined. Neither youngster had spent any time debating the question of whether it was better to know about a small area or guess about a large one.

Neither Roger nor Edith was on the hill where Ken landed at the time of his descent. Nature had arranged that they should be in the neighborhood, but coincidence refused to carry matters farther. However, Nature still had a trick in reserve.

Roger, until that morning, had taken more or less for granted that any future visits of the torpedo would be at night, as the first had been. His father’s story had changed that idea; and since he had heard it only three or four hours before, he had not given up taking rather frequent looks at the sky. It was not too surprising, therefore, that he saw the descending torpedo.

It was nearly a mile and a half away, and he could make out no details; but he was certain it was no bird. The irregularity caused by Ken’s dangling form gave just a suggestion of oddness at that distance. Detailed or not, however, Roger never thought of doubting what it was; and with a whoop that might or might not reach his sister’s ears for all he cared at the moment, he headed downhill at a breakneck pace.

For a short time he made excellent speed, the irregularity of the rocks offering no obstacle that his alert eyes and active muscles could not overcome without trouble. Then he reached the forest, and was slowed considerably. For a short distance he kept up the furious effort with which he had started; then realizing that he had at least one hill to cross and another to climb, he eased off a little.

He had wet feet, thoroughly scratched legs, and a decided shortness of wind when he reached the hilltop toward which the torpedo had seemed to be descending, some three quarters of an hour later. He had seen no sign of Edith — he had, in fact, completely forgotten her. She might have come back to mind as he paused at the top of the small mountain to gain his breath and look around for the object of his search; but as it happened, the torpedo was in sight, only a short distance down the other side. So was Sallman Ken.

Roger had seen pictures of the tremendous pressure suits which have from time to time been constructed for deep-sea exploration. The sight of Ken, therefore, did not astonish him too much — certainly less than the sight of a Sarrian without armor would have done. The suit the scientist was wearing humanized his appearance considerably, since a human being would not have had to be too greatly distorted to get into it.

The legs, for engineering reasons, had only a single “knee,” corresponding to the upper joint of the Sarrian limb; the body was about human size, and cylindrical in shape; there were only two upper limbs. These were more flexible than a human being would have needed in a similar suit, but they at least gave no indication that the creature wearing them was controlling them with two tentacles each. The handlers at their extremities were natural enough, though more complicated than the claw-like devices the boy had seen in the diving suit pictures.

At his distance, he could not see clearly through the transparent ports in the helmet; and so for some moments he failed to realize just how unhuman the wearer of the clumsy garment was.

For perhaps half a minute, Roger simply stared; then he unloosed the yell which interrupted Ken’s “embarkation.” The scientist’s attention had been completely taken up with this task, and he had not seen Roger at all before the cry; after it, he saw nothing else. He himself was not facing the direction from which the sound had come, but one of the transparent ports in his helmet was; and he was much too interested to devote attention to anything like turning the armor, after his first look at the being charging downhill toward him. He simply stood, watching with the one eye he could bring to bear. It never occurred to him for an instant that the creature might be hostile.

Roger never thought of the possibility either. His mind resembled that of Ken much too closely, in spite of the overwhelming physical differences. They simply stood facing each other — Ken finally did swing his armor around, so he could use both eyes — and silently absorbed all the details their respective optics could pick out. Each had an advantage — Roger in the fact that the light was normal for him, Ken in that the boy was not concealed in a couple of hundred pounds of metal. Roger could see the Sarrian’s face now, and his attention was taken up completely with the great, widespread, independently movable eyes, the blank where a nose should have been, and the broad, thin-lipped, surprisingly human mouth. The silence stretched out.

It was interrupted by Feth, whose anxiety had been increasing with each second that passed after Roger’s call.

“What’s happened? Is anything wrong? Are you all right, Ken?” The scientist found his voice.

“Perfectly all right. We have company, as I suppose you guessed.” He began to describe Roger as completely as possible, and was interrupted within a minute by the mechanic.

“It can’t be done. We’ll get a television set or a camera down there if I have to invent a whole new system. Never mind describing the thing — see if you can talk to it!”

Roger had heard none of this, since Feth had not energized the speaker in the torpedo. This oversight he now rectified, and Ken’s next words reached the boy clearly.

“What in the Galaxy can I say? Suppose this one has heard about our mistake the other night — suppose it’s even the same one? If I use the word ‘Gold’ it’ll either run or start fighting. I’m not afraid of it, but that certainly wouldn’t help the process of getting acquainted.”

“Well, you’ve just used the word. How did he take it? I have the main speaker on.” Ken, who had had no means of knowing that fact, cast a startled glance at Roger.

The boy, of course, had understood just the one word “Gold.” He probably would have missed that, except for the fact that Ken had accentuated it as one does a foreign word; but as it was, he thought that the previous conversation had been addressed to him. He had not distinguished the two voices, and all the sounds had come from the torpedo still poised just above Ken’s head.

“I don’t want any of your gold — not if it’s like the last batch!” Again only one word was understood by the listener. Ken grew hopeful Maybe this creature hadn’t heard, or maybe they had completely misinterpreted the sounds he and Feth had heard during the atmosphere test.

“Gold? “he asked.

“NO!” Roger shook his head negatively and backed away as he gave the emphatic answer. The first gesture meant nothing to the watching Sarrian, but the second seemed clear enough.

“Did you get that last sound of his on record, Feth? Judging by his actions, that’s the negative in their language. No gold!” he addressed the last two words after a brief pause. Roger relaxed visibly, but still spoke emphatically.

“No gold, no platinum, — I have no tobacco.” He spread empty hands and turned out his pockets, giving the Sarrian scientist a clue he had been waiting for on just how much of his covering was artificial.

“Point to things and name them!” Feth cut in from above. “How else can you learn a language? This chatter sounds as silly as anything I’ve ever heard!”

“All right — only remember, I can see as well as hear. That makes a bit of difference. If you expect any results, keep quiet; how’s this thing going to tell who’s talking? It all comes from the same loudspeaker. I’ll call you when I want to hear from you.” Feth gave no answer to this very sound point, and after waiting a minute Ken began to follow the mechanic’s suggestion.

Since Roger had been thinking of exactly the same thing, he caught on at once, and thereby gave the Sarrian a higher opinion of human intelligence than his conversations with Laj Drai had caused him to hold previously. The English words for rock, tree, bush, mountain, cloud, and the numbers up to ten were learned in short order. A few verbs were managed easily enough. At this point operations seemed likely to be suspended, and Roger was rather relieved to have the subject changed by a distant hail.

“My gosh! I forgot all about Edie! She must think I fell off a cliff or something!” He turned in the direction from which the faint voice seemed to be coming, and put all the strength of his lungs into an answering hail. His sister heard it and responded; and ten or fifteen minutes of lung strain brought her to the scene. She seemed a little dubious about approaching Ken at all closely, to Roger’s surprise.

“What’s the matter with you? He just wants to talk, as far as I can see.”

“Haven’t you got burned again?”

“No; why should I?”

“Can’t you feel the heat?”

Oddly enough, Roger hadn’t. He had never come closer than about fifteen feet to the scientist. The radiation from the armor was easily detectable at that distance without being uncomfortable, but he simply had not noticed it in the press of other interests. For Edith, whose strongest impression of the aliens had been derived from her brother’s experience of a few nights before, it was the most prominent characteristic of the thing standing before them.

With the matter brought to his notice, Roger approached the alien more closely, and extended a cautious hand toward the metal. He stopped it more than a foot away.

“My gosh, he certainly is hot. Maybe that’s what caused the trouble — they never thought the gold would burn me. Do you suppose that’s it?”

“Maybe. I’d like to know how it can live when it’s that hot, though. So would Dad. He ought to be here anyway. Had I better go tell him, while you keep the thing here?”

“I don’t know how I’d keep it. Besides, it would be awful late by the time he got here. Let’s try to make a date for tomorrow.” He turned back to Ken without waiting for Edie’s rather sensible question, “How?”

Actually the “how” proved not too difficult. Time is an abstract quantity, but when it is measured by phenomena like the apparent movement of the sun it can be discussed in signs quite clearly enough for practical purposes. Ken understood without difficulty by the time Roger had finished waving his arms that the two natives would return to their present location shortly after sunrise the following day. The scientist was just as glad to break off the interview, since his feet were now quite numb with cold. He resumed the task of fastening himself to the hovering torpedo, and the children, turning back for a last look as they reached the trees, saw the odd-looking assemblage of suit and carrier drifting upward with ever-increasing velocity. They watched until it had dwindled to a speck and vanished; then with one accord they headed for home.