James White - Double Contact

“But the Trolanni-druul situation isn’t the immediate problem…” began the captain.

“Of course it isn’t,” said Prilicla. “But if you give the impression that it is — that you, personally, consider these future problems to be of more importance and difficulty than our present one — this should have a reassuring effect on your superiors. If you express deep concern for and an understanding of their future problems, they should feel that you are confident about solving this one and leave us alone to get on with it without interference. As well, if they try to help with our problem, I’m sure friend Keet will be able to furnish us with more information on the Trolann situation to worry them. They might decide that every time they try to help us with our troubles, you dump an even greater problem in their laps, and desist.”

“And what do I tell them about the spider assault on the med station?” asked the captain. “Just how do I make that sound like a minor problem?”

“You tell the truth,” Prilicla replied, “but not all of it. After an initial period of misunderstanding, tell them that the spider first contact is ongoing.”

“Ongoing it is,” said the captain, “but from bad to worse. Dr. Prilicla, for such a timid, inoffensive, and completely friendly entity, you have a nasty, devious, lying mind.”

“Why, thank you, friend Fletcher,” he replied, “for listing my most admirable personality characteristics.”

Murchison and Danalta made amused sounds which did not translate while Naydrad ruffled its fur in puzzlement, but before any of them could speak, the communicator chimed and its screen lit with the features of Haslam.

“Sir,” the lieutenant said briskly, “our weather sensors indicate that the present warm front will clear the island in five hours’ time — just before nightfall, that is — and it will be followed by an extensive high-pressure system that could remain for the ensuing twelve to fifteen days. As well, there is another spider fleet of three ships closing on us. Judging by their present heading and speed, I’d say that they intend to pass south of us before morning for a landing on the other side of the island. Would you like to return to the ship?”

The question was, of course, rhetorical because the captain was already halfway to the entrance.

It came as no surprise that the attack from inland did not develop until the afternoon of the following day. By then the hot, high sun had dried off the rain-soaked vegetation, and the moment-to-moment situation as it developed on Rhabwar’s tactical screens was being relayed to the med station’s communicator with a commentary by the captain.

Naydrad was with the Trolanni patients, talking to Keet. Jasam was still deeply sedated but giving no cause for concern while Danalta was doing tricks with itself in an attempt to amuse the Terragar casualties who were complaining because they were missing their daily dunk in the ocean. Only Murchison and himself were watching developments, and the pathologist was radiating a strange mixture of dissatisfaction and guilt.

The original three ships beached near them were showing a few ventilation openings but had not lowered their landing ramps. According to the captain this was an obvious attempt to lull them into a false sense of security while a surprise attack was made from the cover of the vegetation inland. The spider force could not know — because at their level of technology, the very idea of being able to see at a distance in darkness would not have occurred to them — that Rhabwar was fully aware of the arrival of the new fleet; or that a vessel that could detect life signs in space wreckage over thousands of miles’ distance would have no trouble picking up the movements and body heat of beings crawling under a thin covering of overhanging branches.

“I hate it,” said Murchison suddenly, “when I have to watch brave, intelligent, but undereducated people making fools of themselves like this. Are you feeling godlike, Captain Fletcher?”

They heard the captain inhale sharply and Prilicla felt the sudden surge of anger that was weakened only by distance. But its voice remained calm as it replied, “Yes, in a way. I see and know everything, and like a god I have to hide the truth from them for their own good. I’d rather we stopped them before they hit the meteorite shield. They’ve already seen us creating sand eddies and pulling water into their path, and gratuitous displays of superscience can have a bad effect on an emerging culture. Magic, apparent miracles, events which contravene natural law as they know it, can give rise to new religious or drastically change existing ones so that superstition can stultify scientific and technological progress. These people don’t need that.”

“Sorry, Captain,” said Murchison, “I spoke without thinking.”

The other nodded and went on. “The damage may already have been done. They’ve seen our ship fly, and the med-station buildings, and we checked their first attack by throwing sand at them and threatening to douse them with seawater, although neither stopped them trying to attack us because it was the rainstorm that did that. Maybe they think we were responsible for that, too. But allowing them to run into an invisible wall like the meteorite shield could be too much for a primitive species to take, brave and resourceful and adaptable though they are.

“The trouble is,” it went on, “that we can’t generate clouds of sand under the trees and neither can we drag water that far without it spilling on the way. We can use more power on the tractor to uproot trees and throw soil into the air, but not with enough accuracy to keep some of the spiders from getting squashed. Pathologist Murchison, didn’t you mention earlier that they had a fear of fire as well as water?”

“I did,” Murchison replied, “but I’d rather you didn’t use it because I’m not sure whether the on-board fire precautions I saw were due to the material of their ships being flammable, or their bodies.”

“My idea is to frighten them off without hurting them,” said the captain. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. But I’d like them to come close enough for Dr. Priliclato get an emotional reading from them. Specifically, why do they feel so strongly about us that they are willing to go up against a completely strange and obviously superior enemy?”

For nearly an hour they watched the enhanced images of the spider force as it moved slowly nearer, making use of all available cover and spreading out into line abreast formation as it came. The captain said complimentary things about the spider commander’s tactical know-how as the center of the line held back to enable the formation to form a crescent that would enclose the station and the grounded Rhabwar. They had closed to just under one hundred meters before the captain spoke directly to the station.

“Dr. Prilicla, are they close enough to give you an emotional reading?”

“Yes, friend Fletcher,” he replied, “a strong but imprecise one. The strength as well as the lack of precision is due to the large number of sources sharing the same feelings. There is uncertainty and apprehension characteristic of fear that is under control, and a general feeling of antipathy towards the enemy…”

“Blind xenophobic hatred,” the captain broke in. “I was afraid of that.”

“As I’ve said, friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla, “It is difficult to be precise, but my feeling is that they don’t hate us so much as what we are doing.”

“But we aren’t doing anything wrong,” the other protested, “at least that we know about. No matter, we have to stop them before they get any closer. Haslam, launch the chemical pyrotechnics. Spread them in front of their line at twenty-meter intervals. Dodds, use your tractor beam to pull off bunches of burning vegetation and drop them into any smoke-free gaps. I want our perimeter protected by a line of fire and smoke. Stand by to deploy the meteorite shield if that doesn’t work.”