Through the Eye of a Needle

4. Arrangements and People

Robert Kinnaird woke up with the weakness gone for the moment, but with a brand new trouble to consider. He had not eaten since breakfast, their search not having taken them anywhere near his home, and he had a completely empty stomach, for which the Hunter could vouch. For some reason, however, he was feeling an extreme nausea. The suggestion, even the thought, of eating made him double up, almost out of control. He didn't dare ride in that condition, having no confidence in his ability not to think of food, so |they set off toward the village on foot, wheeling the machine.

After a mile or so the sensation wore off, but since they did not know the cause and couldn't be sure it would not come back, they decided against riding.

The road was wider, with buildings now quite frequent on either side; the Hunter saw and remembered the one which had figured in the flaming climax of their adventure seven years before.

As they approached this structure, a child of about ten or eleven appeared from behind it, watched them, silently until they were in front of him, and then fell in beside them.

The Hunter was curious, but could not take a good look while Bob was keeping his eyes on the ground.

The group walked another hundred yards or so before the youngster spoke. Then he asked abruptly, "What's wrong with the bike?"

"Nothing," answered Bob, looking directly at him for the first time.

"Why aren't you riding it?"

"Why do you care?" The child looked startled at first, then rather resigned.

"No special reason." He didn't quite shrug his shoulders, but somehow gave the impression that he felt like it.

"Just curious. If you don't want to tell me, don't."

Bob pulled himself out of his negative mood and said, "Sorry. I've been having stomach cramps, so I couldn't ride and felt terrible, but I shouldn't take it out on you."

"That's all right. Going to the doctor's?"

"Yes, it seems a good idea. Wouldn't you?"

The conversation dropped. The Hunter had had his good look at the youngster, but hadn't gained much by it. The only even slightly unusual characteristic of the child was his weight. The Ell children tended to run lean, since a high level of physical activity was the accepted thing. This one was not really plump, but by island standards was decidedly heavy for his height. His features and complexion were standard for the island, a mixture of Polynesian and European; his skin was brown, hair black, eyes blue, nose and chin rather sharp. He wore the usual shorts which were equally stylish in or out of the water.

There was simply nothing remarkable about him, and neither Bob nor the Hunter gave him another thought, for a few minutes. Their attention was completely diverted from him when another bicycle pulled up beside them to reveal that their morning's search was over. Kenneth Malmstrom was with them.

"Hi, Bob. Just heading home for lunch? Mine was late, too."

"I'd sort of forgotten about eating," Bob responded. "Been riding all over the place to make myself at home again. I'd like to do the same on the water, maybe tomorrow. Too bad the others aren't with us- and the old boat."

"I'd go, but I'm not free this weekend-at least, I'm not exactly working, but I have to stay in hearing of a phone tomorrow. I suppose you'll want to go anyway, before you start work too. Any idea when that'll be?"

"Well, Doc checked me over this morning. Unless he finds something out of line, I suppose Monday. I wouldn't know where or what. If you're not free tomorrow or Sunday, I might as well row a bit by myself, if I can find a boat."

"Lots of those around," Malmstrom assured him. "I'd let you have mine, but I sold it to a kid over a year ago-didn't have enough time for it to make it worth the upkeep work. Speaking of boats and fun-you, Andre. Have you been around the airplane again?"

"When?" The boy who had been standing silently, beside them seemed neither surprised nor indignant at the question.

"Any time since it got here yesterday, but especially this morning. You remember what you got told after you tied the wheel struts to the float under water, where no one could see the rope?"

"I remember." Bob, with the memory of his father's injury the night before rising in his mind, looked at the child with interest; but neither he nor the Hunter could read anything from Andre's expression. There was certainly no fear, and no really obvious amusement. Malmstrom was not trying to analyze; he already had his suspicions and intended to air them.

"Well, someone's done it again. I hope no one's seen you around with a length of rope, or you're in trouble."

"They haven't. I'm not." The young face remained expressionless. Malmstrom eyed the boy sternly for half a minute, but got nothing for his trouble and finally returned to the earlier subject.

"I sometimes miss the old boat, but there are plenty around-you can always borrow one."

"So I gather," replied Bob. "The Doc said his girl had one she might be willing to lend; I'll go back after I eat and-what's so funny?" Malmstrom was grinning broadly.

"Doc's a swell guy," he chuckled, "but he's too fond of Jenny. She can't do anything wrong-ask him. Wait till you see the boat. She made it herself."

"So? Don't most people? What's wrong with it?"

"She used some kind of kit she sent away for. It's mostly canvas. I wouldn't get into it for money."

"Did you tell her that? Did she ask you to ride in it?"

"No, she sure didn't. I've been kidding her ever since she started making it."

"I see. Well, I'll be seeing Doc again anyway, but thanks for the warning. I'll use my judgment about Jenny's boat. See you later; I'm hungry."

"And I'm late. So long." The tall youth pedaled rap-idly away in the direction from which the others had come, and all three looked after him thoughtfully.

"He's pretty dumb," the child suddenly volunteered!

"Why?" asked Bob. "He found out about your tying up the airplane, the other time."

"No, he didn't. He couldn't find his own nose if it was after dark. Someone told him I did that, and now he blames everything on me."

"And he's never right?"

"Sometimes. A busted clock is right twice a day." There was still no expression behind the words or on the face.

"Is he right about Jenny Seever's boat?"

"You said you'd see for yourself." There might have been reproach in the child's tones, this time. Bob was somewhat amused, and the Hunter was developing a real interest in Andre. He, too, had thought about the incident of the footlocker.

Bob had resumed wheeling the bicycle toward the doctor's. Andre accompanied them as far as the road which led down to the dock. He turned down this way while the others went on, eventually reaching the Kinnaird home.

Bob's mother had expected them much earlier and had obviously been worried; her son made excuses and apologies without mentioning the fatigue attack. As he ate, he gave a somewhat edited report of his talk with Seever, mentioned that he and the Hunter had bicycled around much of the island, and eventually spoke of the possibility of using Jenny's canoe.

"Do you know anything about that, Mom?" he asked. "We met Shorty Malmstrom just before we got here, and when I said something about Jenny's boat he nearly split. He said he'd never want to ride in it. She didn't strike me as exactly incompetent; is she?"

"I don't believe so," his mother answered. "I know the Seevers very well, of course; Ben and Ev are probably our best friends. Jenny took care of Daphne quite often when she was very small. I never heard anything about her boat, or about any fuss between her and Shorty. Of course, there could be some story current among the teen-age set that I might never have heard; you should check with someone younger. Even Daphne might know more than I."

No opportunity of consulting his sister arose, how-ever; she seemed to have gone with friends after school, and her mother did not expect her until suppertime.

Bob rested until nearly four, and then headed back to the Seevers'. He used the bicycle, but not without some hesitation and discussion with the Hunter. It might delay the onset of the next fatigue attack; on the other hand, it would be a nuisance if the nausea struck again. The Hunter could not even guess which was more likely to happen, since he had not yet come up with a specific cause for either, so he voted for speed.

There were still patients in the waiting room when they arrived, and Jenny was still at her desk. When she saw Bob, however, she slipped the papers in front of her into a folder, rose, and came toward him.

"Let's go," she said, "I'll show you the boat, if you still want it."

"What about the other people here?" asked Bob in some surprise.

"They don't need me. It's Dad they're after. Did you think he'd gotten so formal that everyone has to be escorted from waiting room to office?"

"It looked like it this morning."

"Not the story. He expects me to be useful and tactful-"

"And decorative?" Her eyes, little more than two inches below his, swept over his face for a moment, but she showed no other sign of being impressed by the remark.

"That wasn't mentioned, thanks. As long as the records are straight and he can find anything he wants, I'm earning my dividend."

They were outside now, and Bob gestured toward the bicycle rack. "Walk or wheel?"

"Walk. Most of the way is on sand." She led the way, not toward the road leading down to the dock, but almost directly toward the water, threading among houses and gardens along the narrow paths which separated them. The girl seemed to feel no need of conversation, and the Hunter was perfectly willing to think rather than listen. Bob, however, felt that time was not a commodity he could afford to waste.

"We saw Shorty just before lunch. What does he have against you, anyway?"

The girl stopped and faced him, somehow looking even taller. "Do you want the boat?" she asked curtly.

"I won't know until I've seen it, and probably not until I've tried it," Bob retorted. His tone showed annoyance; the Hunter knew he was acting, but Jenny fortunately did not. "D'you think I let Shorty do my thinking for me? I asked what he had against you, not your canoe."

"I suppose you wouldn't." Jenny appeared to relax, and resumed the way toward the shore. "I don't know why he's like that I got the plans for the boat by mail, and the first time he saw me working on it he offered to help-actually he said he 'could do it for me.' I said I'd rather see whether I could do it for myself, and I haven't heard a polite word from him in a year and a half. He keeps asking me if it's had moths, or a run in the bottom, or a lot of other things he seems to think are funny. I wont blame you for your friends, but don't expect me to have much use for that one."

"Maybe he felt insulted by your refusing his help."

"Maybe so. I certainly felt insulted by the way he offered it-as though 1didn't have a chance of doing it right by myself, I don't know whether he felt that way because I'm a female, or just because my name isn't Kenneth Malmstrom and I'm less than six and a quarter feet high."

"Knowing Shorty, I'd guess the latter," Bob soothed. "He was sometimes that way with the rest of us, but we didn't take him very seriously. If he got too bumptious it was usually easy enough to come up with a put-down hard enough to hold him for three or four weeks. I thought he'd pretty well outgrown that, though, the last time I was home."

"Maybe he has, with you. Putting him down, doesn't work for me. He knows I did a good job with the kayak, he's seen it; he's seen lots of people use it, but whenever he sees it or me he makes remarks. I bet he did when you saw him today."

"Very vague ones. As I said, "I'll make up my mind when I see the boat. If you, and other people have been using it for a year and a half I won’t worry about the thing itself, but I still have to judge whether it's big enough for what I need." "What's that? Or don't you think I'd understand?" "Why shouldn't you? I have to look for some special things. One of them is, or used to be, out on one of the reef islands, Apu. Anything that'll carry me there will do. The other is under water, almost certainly outside the reef, and I'll need a boat that I can dive from when my equipment gets here." "You mean pumps and that sort of thing? My kayak can't carry anything like that."

"No, I mean free diving with personal mask and air tank. You may have read about it."

"I have. You're getting that?"

"When I can afford it, unless Dad can come through earlier. I'm short on paydays so far."

"That should be fun. I've thought of doing it ever since I heard about it. Can I go with you?" Bob had expected the question, of course, but had failed to plan a very farsighted answer.

"You mean alternate dives with me, or something like that? I can afford only one outfit."

Jenny stopped and looked at him again, this time with her lips pursed into a schoolmarmish expression.

“I realize that Shorty Malmstrom must have been named from his brains, not his height, but I bet even he wouldn't think of going free diving alone. Do you have more lives than money, or what? Maybe I shouldn't trust you with my boat, after all."

Even the Hunter was startled. Bob was dumb- founded. Incredibly, neither of them had thought of this particular safety question, in spite of the Hunter's awareness of the human tendency to crowd the experience limit, and also in spite of his fear of what that tendency might do to his host-and his knowledge of what it had done, luckily for the Hunter himself, to his host's father.

The simple insanity of Bob's working under water with only the Hunter with him had never crossed either of their minds; the fact was that there was nothing the Hunter could do about drowning. He could make a fairly effective gill system out of his own tissue, but there was only four pounds of that and a human being needs a lot of oxygen. It was possible that the Hunter could keep his host alive for a time under water, but probably not conscious and certainly not active, especially in warm water. The solubility of gases, including oxygen, goes down with rising temperature.

"You're right!" Bob gasped. "We'd forgotten all about that-at least," he tried to recover what he thought was a slip, and hesitated a moment before he saw the way-"at least I forgot; maybe Dad thought of it and didn't say anything. We will have to get two sets-and it'll have to be only two, at first. We can't put off the search until I can afford more."

"Then it's important," Jenny said.

"Yeah. Life and death, to be trite." The Hunter was almost certain that his host was by now convinced of the need for more help, though nothing more had been said on the subject since the discussion at midday, The alien had convinced himself that Jenny would be a good recruit. He had not intended to exert any more pressure on his human companion; but couldn't resist at this point.

"You're going to have to tell her," he vibrated into Bob's ears.

"She'll think I'm crazy as Shorty. We'll hold off just a little." The vocal cords just barely oscillated, but the alien was ready for the message. He couldn't shrug Bob's shoulders, but was tempted to try.

Aloud, Bob said to Jenny, "I think I can tell you more a little later. It's not entirely my own secret." This was technically true, but once again misleading enough to bother the Hunter slightly. "I'll tell you a little-my own part of it. There's a problem which will kill me if it isn't solved fairly soon. Your father knows about it, since it's partly medical, but I don't want to tell you details until I've talked to him and one other person. I hope you don't mind."

"I do, a little, but I won't fight it. Do your own folks know?"

"My parents do. Not Silly."

"All right I'm curious enough to light matches between your toes, but I guess I can wait. I warn you I'll pry anything I can out of Dad. Of course he doesn't talk about patients' affairs, but there are ways."

"Do your best." Bob was actually pleased with the answer. He would be delighted if she could actually get the story from some source other than himself; that way, whether she believed it or not, there would at least be no doubts about his own sanity. The Hunter hadn't thought of that side of the question, but was pleased at the general trend of affairs.

Bob wondered briefly whether he should try to get word to the doctor before his daughter reached him, but decided there was nothing to be gained. Medical ethics would of course tend to keep Seever quiet; if his daughter was smart enough to get through that barrier, she would presumably be smart enough to be helpful to him and the Hunter.

The boat looked all right. It was different enough from most of those on the island to show the Hunter and his host why Malmstrom, not in the habit of deep or thoughtful analysis of the things he saw, might consider it funny. Small and double-ended, it consisted essentially of a canvas-covered wooden frame. Consequently, it was very light.

“It's called a kayak, in case you've never seen anything like it.” Jenny spoke rather nervously as they looked it over, she was clearly afraid that Bob would react as Malmstrom had. "I made it from a kit I got by mail from the States. It's good and steady, and I've had it outside the reef plenty of times with no trouble."

"It looks fine to me," Bob assured her. "One thing -it's light, and must ride pretty high when it's empty or has only one passenger. Could a diver climb back aboard without capsizing it?"

"Sure. I swim from it a lot, and have no trouble getting back in. It's a trick, but I'll show you."

"Okay. Then if you'll let me use it, I'll look over Apu tomorrow. I'd do it right now if we had more than an hour or so to sunset."

"May I come with you? Or don't you want me to see what you're looking for?"

"Even money she'll know by then, anyway," the Hunter muttered to his host. The latter hesitated, looking thoughtfully at the young woman. She looked back at him steadily; the nervous, defensive attitude had disappeared.

"Is that a condition for using the boat?" Bob asked at length. She shook her head negatively, confirming the Hunter's opinion of her intelligence. As Bob fell silent again for several seconds, she removed the broad-brimmed hat which shielded her rather pale skin from the sun, and let her mahogany-red hair blow free. To do her justice, she was not consciously using the good looks of which she was fully aware in an effort to influence the young man's decision. This was just as well, since neither Bob nor the Hunter was giving the slightest thought to that aspect of the matter. Her five feet eight inches of height and one-hundred-and-twenty-plus pounds of weight had probably never produced less effect on a male observer.

"All right," Bob said at last. "The sun will be up by a quarter to seven. Can you be here by then?"

"Sure. Do you want to try out the boat, now?"

"Why not? That double paddle looks as though it might take practice."

"Can I come, too?" came another voice. Bob turned abruptly, and saw the small boy who had accosted him earlier in the day.

Jenny showed no surprise, having seen him approach. She answered the question without consulting Bob by voice or glance.

"All right, Andre. Ride forward when we get it in the water."

"Can I paddle?"

"Some of the time. Bob needs practice, first."

Dropping her hat on the sand, Jenny lifted the kayak onto her head, refusing with a gesture Bob's offer of help. The child made no such offer, not even bothering to pick up the hat.

Bob kicked off his sneakers and rolled up his trouser legs, retrieved the hat, and handed it to Jenny as she set the kayak down in calf-deep water. She had not bothered to keep slacks or sandals dry; she simply seated herself in the middle of the small craft, nodded Bob to the stern, waited until Andre had splashed past them and settled himself in the bow, and then started to paddle.

Without looking back, she remarked, "You'd better wear something more tomorrow. You probably tan better than I do, but with no hat and that T-shirt your • arms and face will be in pretty bad shape before the day's over. You've been out of the sun for a long time."

"Good point," Bob admitted. There was silence for several minutes while the girl maneuvered the little craft forward and backward, and turned it both ways at varying speeds. Finally she handed the paddle back to Bob.

"It'll be easier from there," she assured him. He found no great difficulty in mastering the little canoe, as his extensive experience with rowboats was not wholly irrelevant-Newton's third law is very, very general. The girl gave an occasional word of advice, but on the whole he had no trouble making the little vessel behave.

"I don't see what Shorty has against this," he said at length. The boy in front spoke without turning his head.

"I told you. He's stupid." Bob managed to contain his amusement.

"You and Jenny must be good friends," Bob suggested.

"I've known Andre most of his life," the girl said. "I used to baby-sit for him and his sisters. We're good friends most of the time."

"He likes your boat, anyway."

"Don't you?"

"Sure. It's fine. It should do for the diving, too, if we have only two people in it."

"If two go down, we'll need a third to handle the boat," Jenny pointed out. Bob grew thoughtful, and was silent for a few seconds.

"Well, we'll try," he said at length. "Anyway, the gear will be a long time coming, I'm afraid."

"You're going to go diving? With suits?" Andre asked excitedly. "I can handle the kayak. Let me be with you!"

"Maybe," Jenny said. "It's Bob's business. You'll have to convince him he wants you. I can tell him how good you are with the kayak, but you'll have to be careful not to spoil anything." Both Bob and the Hunter could tell that some meaning lay under the rather elaborate remark. Both tended to connect it with Malmstrom's charges, of malicious mischief earlier in the day. It was some time before they learned how wrong, and at the same time how right, they were.

"Let Andre paddle now, if he wants," Bob said suddenly. He handed the implement forward to Jenny, who passed it on. "The sun's nearly down. Bring us ashore where we were, unless Jenny wants the boat somewhere else."

The child obeyed silently. The Hunter knew why Bob had given up the paddle; the fatigue had struck again. He was having trouble holding on to the tool, to say nothing of driving the vessel with it. They were half a mile from the beach; the alien hoped, somewhat forlornly, that his companion would get enough rest in the few minutes it would take to get ashore to permit normal operation as far as the doctor's home.

Andre left as soon as they reached the shore, without helping get the canoe out of the water. Jenny did this unassisted; Bob had two reasons for not offering his muscles-she had, after all, refused help before. The walk to the Seevers' was made slowly and in silence; Bob had recovered a little, and hoped the girl wasn't noticing his weakness. At any rate, she made no comment on it.

It was getting dark now, and he needed no excuse to walk the bicycle home instead of riding it up the northwest road.

The early part of the evening, while Daphne was still up, passed without particular incident. The child noticed her brother's fatigue, but he managed to pass it off by saying that he was out of condition and had tried to get around too much of the island. Even the Hunter had no moral objection to this. Daphne was not very sympathetic, and both Bob and the Hunter foresaw some trouble if the drug Seever had mentioned failed to come soon and do some good.

When the child disappeared for the night, Bob made a fairly complete report of the day's doings, not stressing the fatigue attacks. His decision, now crystallized, to bring Jenny onto the working team was approved by both parents-they did not feel strongly either way about the girl herself, but were in favor of anything that promised to speed up the project.

Mrs. Kinnaird asked whether her friend Evelyn Seever might not also be included, and Bob admitted that the doctor had made hints in the same direction. It would be nice, he granted, if the two families were completely involved and free to discuss the problems without the need for finding an excuse to exclude some of the members.

"It's too bad Silly isn't older," he even admitted. "But at least, there's a good excuse for easing her out of the way at night."

"Then you'll let Ben tell Ev?" his mother persisted.

"Well-I guess so." Bob's attitude, almost reflexive after more than seven years, was yielding; but it was putting up a good fight.

"I've sent for a couple of those free-diving outfits," said Bob's father, changing the subject. "We're going to have to improvise something to keep the tanks charged, I expect. We have a compressor for the pneumatic hammers and drills, but its connections and controls will have to be played with a bit."

"You ordered two?" Bob asked as indifferently as he could.

"Of course. You weren't planning to dive alone, I trust." Strictly out of kindness, the Hunter worked on Bob's facial capillaries to forestall the blush which was obviously coming. The younger man changed the subject, he hoped unobtrusively.

"I wonder how long they'll take to get here?"

"Don't hold your breath waiting. Even by air it's a long journey. There's nothing more we can do about it for now. You said something about getting hold of an old mine detector or something of that sort, didn't you?"

"Yes. It could save a lot of time, if the things will work under water."

"I don't think we'd have to send for that," said Arthur Kinnaird happily. "Taro Tavake at the radio station can probably make one, considering his war background in the Solomons. I'm positive he knows how they work, from things he's said. I'll talk to him tomorrow."

Bob was appropriately gratified. "Good," he said brightly. "That seems to set us up for now. When the diving gear comes we'll have to make more detailed plans, but that will be a while."

"One thing," his mother put in. "Once you start work, when do you get all these things done? And who, besides your father, dives with you? You'll both have working hours which won't leave very much time free for this. Have you given any thought to taking Old Toke into the secret and having him assign you the job of finding spaceships? That would simplify a lot of things."

"We've thought of it and talked about it a lot, Mom. For now we've decided against it-only partly because I'm so much against telling anyone. Toke Thorvaldsen and his son both have a lot of influence, since they are PFI, and the Hunter's regulations apply a good deal more stiffly to people like them than they do to us."

"Even though it would improve our chances of saving your life?" the woman insisted. "Believe me, we've thought it over, Mom. There are risks each way, and I've settled which ones I prefer. The Hunter agrees with me. I may be wrong, but that's the way I want to play it."

"And, as you kindly refrain from pointing out, it is your own game. Very well, Son, we'll try to play it on your side. You'll forgive us for worrying."