James White - Double Contact

It didn’t speak again until they came to the next intersection, a T-junction leading into a passageway that led fore and aft to the limit of visibility provided by their helmet lights. The support frames carried what seemed like hundreds of differently-coded cable runs and the new passageway was obviously a main trunk route for crew members, but it was no wider or deeper then any of the others they had encountered.

That suggested infrequent traffic, Prilicla thought, or a small crew.

“We have to find out what this ship can do,” said the captain suddenly, “apart from simply killing other ships. For our own defense we must learn and understand its weapons capability and, if possible, that of its attacker. Next time I’ll bring something more intelligent than a screwdriver. A radiation sensor, perhaps, that will work without being in direct contact with the target object—”

“Friend Fletcher,” Prilicla broke in, “would you please be silent and absolutely still?”

The captain opened its mouth and shut it again without speaking. As it waited motionless, the curiosity, puzzlement, and increasing anxiety it was radiating hung about it like a thick fog.

“You may relax, friend Fletcher, at least for a few minutes,” said Prilicla finally, directing his helmet light forward. “I thought I detected vibration in the corridor netting that was not being made by us, and I was right. Something is moving aft towards us. It is not yet visible. Shall we withdraw, I hope?”

“I want a look at it first,” said the captain. “But stay behind me in case hostilities break out. Better still, you head back to Rhabwar, now.”

The calm, controlled expectancy with a minimum of fear that was being radiated by the other compared very favorably with Prilicla’s own cowardly feelings. He moved a few meters behind the captain but no farther.

In the netting around them the vibration increased, and suddenly it was within range of their helmet lights, a flattened, ovoid shape that moved like an enormous blob of animated quicksilver. The digits of the six short appendages spaced equally around its body were grasping the netting expertly and using it to pull the creature rapidly towards them, but at a distance of ten meters or so it slowed to a stop. Obviously it was watching them.

“Friend Fletcher,” Prilicla said anxiously, “don’t open your satchel — a tool could be mistaken for a weapon — or make any movements that might seem threatening.”

“I know the first-contact procedures, Doctor,” said the captain irritably. Slowly it released its hold on the netting and extended its two empty hands palms-outward.

A subjective eternity passed that must have lasted all of ten seconds without a response from the alien. Then its body rotated slowly through ninety degrees until the back or underside was directly facing them. Its six tiny hands were tightly gripping the netting all around it.

“It doesn’t seem to be armed and its action isn’t overtly hostile,” said the captain, glancing backwards over its shoulder, “and plainly it doesn’t want us to go any farther. But what can the rest of the crew be doing? Moving to cut off our retreat?”

“No, friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla in gentle disagreement. “I have a feeling that…”

“Doctor,” the other broke in incredulously, “are you saying that you’re detecting feelings from this, this robot?”

“Again, no,” he replied, less gently. “It is what you would call a hunch, or a guess, based on observation. I have the feeling that we are meeting half of the ship’s crew and that we met the damaged other half on Terragar. There are small differences in size and body configuration which lead me to think that the damaged specimen was the male and this one is the female equivalent…”

“Wait, wait,” the captain broke in again, its emotional radiation a confusion of surprise and disbelief with a flash of the unsubtle humor associated with the cruder aspects of reproduction. It went on: “Are you saying that the design of these robots is so sophisticated that they have the means to reproduce sexually? That would imply the implantation of a metallic sperm equivalent and an exchange of non-organic DNA and… It’s ridiculous! I just can’t believe that robots, even highly intelligent robots, would need a sexual act to reproduce their kind, and I didn’t see anything resembling sex organs on either of them.”

“Nor did I,” said Prilicla. “As I’ve already told you, it was a simple matter of differences in body mass and configuration. This one appears to be slimmer and more graceful. But now I would like you to do something for me, friend Fletcher. Several things, in fact.”

The other’s emotional radiation was settling down but it didn’t speak.

“First,” Prilicla went on, “I want you to move forward, slowly, until you’ve closed to half the present distance from the robot, and observe its reaction.”

The captain did so, then said, “It hasn’t moved and I think its hands are gripping the net even more tightly. Obviously it doesn’t want us to pass. What’s the next thing?”

“Move around behind me,” said Prilicla. “It may consider you to be a threat even though you’ve taken no hostile action. Your body mass is over twice that of the robot, your limbs are long and thick and strange to it. My body is also strange but I don’t believe anyone or anything would consider me a threat or, hopefully, wish to harm me physically.

“Then I want you to return to Rhabwar,” he went on before the other could respond. “Move the ship away, a distance of half a mile should be enough, and come back for me when I signal. You will not have a long wait because fairly soon I will be close to the limit of my physical endurance.”

The other was radiating such a combination of surprise, bewilderment, and intense concern for his safely, that it was mak-mg his limbs tremble.

“Friend Fletcher,” he said firmly, “I need the area of this ship to be totally clear of all extraneous emotional interference, especially yours.”

The captain exhaled so deeply that the sound in his headset like a rushing wind, then it said, “You mean you want to be left alone and unprotected in an alien ship while you try to pick up emotional radiation from a machine? With respect, Doctor, I think you’re mad. If I allowed you to do that, Pathologist Mur-chison would have my guts for garters.”

It was a colorful and physiologically-inaccurate Earth-human expression Prilicla had encountered before, and knew its meaning. He said firmly, “But you will allow it and do exactly as I say, friend Fletcher, because this is a disaster site and I have the rank.”

Gradually the principal source of emotional interference that was Fletcher diminished with distance as the captain retraced its path to their entry point and jetted towards Rhabwar, and a few minutes later the faint background of emotional noise from the ambulance ship’s crew was gone as well. Very slowly and cautiously Prilicla extended one long, fragile arm and moved dose to the robot.

“I think I’m mad, too,” he said softly to himself.

Lightly he touched the robot in the center of what he assumed was the cranial swelling on its forebody. His gloves were nsulated but very thin and he was expecting anything from a faint, tingling sensation to a lethal bolt of lightning, but nothing happened at all.

He concentrated his entire mind on his empathic faculty to force it into maximum sensitivity. As well as receiving the emo-ional radiation of patients, injured casualties, and accident sur-ivors, he possessed a projective empathic ability which, if the receiving entity was not too distressed by fear or pain, could be used to pacify and reassure. It was the reason why most people felt good around him and why he had so many friends. As an id to focusing the effect rather than in an effort to communicate, he began to speak.