Hal Clement - Close to Critical

The robot finally spotted the light as well, and understood its meaning as clearly as had Nick.

“If they get too close before we find a river, you’d better go on ahead at your best speed; you can probably outrun them.”

“What will you do?”

“Go into the ocean.”

“Why not take me with you? Won’t that be as good as a river?”

“Not according to your own statement. I don’t want you eaten right out of my arms, and I’m not very well suited to fighting things off if they attack.”

“That’s true. I guess your idea is best, then.”

As it turned out, though, they didn’t have to use it. By the time the glow of Swift’s torches had resolved itself into separate points of light, and it could be seen that the cave dwellers were overhauling Fagin and his pupil at a rate that promised a scant hour of further freedom, a bulge had appeared on the landscape ahead; and in another minute or two this had taken on the shape of a low, rounded ridge snaking across the countryside. It had the dark hue of clear water; and well before they reached it there was no doubt that it was a river. Since it reached above Nick’s crest, there was no way of telling its width; but it must certainly be wide enough to drown any torches Swift’s people might be carrying.

Straight to its edge Fagin and Nick went. Ordinarily such a mass of clear water would be a frightening sight as it oozed slowly by toward the sea; but tonight neither of them felt afraid of it. Nick tossed his torch into it with a carefree gesture, noted with actual glee the way the glow died abruptly from its end, made sure his weapons and fire-drill were securely attached to his harness, and turned to the Teacher.

“All right, I’m ready.”

The white bulk of the robot slid toward him, and four appendages extended from openings in its smooth carapace. Gripping devices on the ends of these clamped firmly, but not painfully, onto two of Nick’s arms and his walking legs, picked him up, and draped him over the machine’s back.

“All right, Nick,” said Fagin. “Relax. I’ll get to high ground as quickly as I can on the other side and dodge raindrops, so you shouldn’t be out long. Just relax.” Nick obeyed the injunction as well as he could as the machine slid into the river.

His body heat boiled a considerable volume of the liquid into gas as they entered; but the gas was oxygen-free and its physical state made no difference to Nick. He lost consciousness within half a minute.

Swift’s warriors reached the spot where the trail entered the river fifteen minutes later. The chief was not philosophical enough to put the incident down to experience.

“How much of a lead will that give you, Doctor?”

Raeker answered without taking his eyes from the robot’s screens. “Presumably the rest of the night, and a trifle more—however long it takes that river to dry up after sunrise. It’s twenty hours or so to sunrise.”

“Maybe the plants will grow enough to hide the robot’s trail in that tune; will they?”

“I’m afraid I have no idea.”

“After observing the life of this planet for sixteen years? Really, Doctor, I should have supposed you’d know something in that time.”

“In all sixteen of those years I never had occasion to note just what kind of vegetation is on the north bank of this river,” Raeker retorted a trifle impatiently, “and all I know from Nick about Swift is that he’s a good tracker; I have no quantitative information as to just how good. Really, Councillor, I know you have been living in Hell the last three weeks; but if you can give only destructive criticism I can say that you won’t be helping her much. You’re getting to sound like Aminadabarlee.”

“I’m glad you mentioned that.” Rich did not sound at all offended. “I know, Doctor, that it is difficult for you to bear up under Drommian mannerisms; they are a rather impulsive race, and while they are very courteous by their standards, those standards are not quite identical to ours. Aminadabarlee is an unusually restrained member of his race; that is why he holds the position he does; but I must suggest very strongly that you check your natural impulse to answer sharply when he gets insulting, as he occasionally does. There is no point in straining his capacity for tolerance. I assure you most solemnly that if he loses his self-control sufficiently to make an emotional report to Dromm, every word he has said about the results to Earth would be literally fulfilled. There wouldn’t be a war, of course, but the result of a ninety per cent— or even a fifty per cent—cut in Earth’s interstellar trade would be fully as disastrous as any war. You must remember that to most of the races we know, Earthmen and Drommians are equally alien; they are both ‘creatures from the stars,’ and what one race says about the other would have quite a ring of authority to most of them. This may sound a trifle exaggerated to you, but this little situation is potentially the most ticklish political and diplomatic affair that has occurred in my lifetime.”

That actually took Raeker’s eyes from the screen for a moment.

“I didn’t realize that,” he said. “Also, I’m afraid I must admit that it will make no difference in my efforts to rescue Easy and ’Mina; I was doing my best already.”

“I believe that, and I’m grateful; but I had to tell you about the other matter. If Aminadabarlee weren’t here it wouldn’t have been necessary; but since you can’t in decency avoid seeing him, it’s very necessary that you understand him. Whatever he says, however intolerant or impatient or downright insulting he may be, you must keep your own control. I assure you he won’t take your calmness as a sign of fear; his people don’t think that way. He’ll respect you the more for it—and so will I.”

“I’ll do my best,” promised Raeker, “but right now I’ll be just as glad if he doesn’t come in for a few hours. I’m busy juggling Nick across the river, and if you want to regard Nick as my child you won’t be too far wrong. I don’t mind talking as long as everything is going all right, but if I stop hi the middle of a sentence don’t be surprised. Have you been talking to the kids?”

“Yes. They’re bearing up pretty well. It’s lucky that Drommian is there; I’m afraid Easy would have let go all over the place if she didn’t feel responsible for her ’Mina. He seems to feel that she’s keeping everything in hand, so for the moment there’s no morale problem. Did I tell you that Mr. Sakiiro found that some of the inspection ports had been left open on the bathyscaphe, so that the electrolysis leads were undoubtedly corroded by outside atmosphere? He has some idea of getting your people down there to do a repair job.”

“I know. That’s all I can think of at the moment, too; but to do that means I have to find them, and they have to find the ’scaphe. It’s some comfort that the kids can stay alive almost indefinitely down there; the machine will keep them in food, water, and air.”

“That’s true; but Easy won’t last forever under three gravities.”

Raeker frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. Have you any medical information on how long she’s likely to hold out?”

“None at all. The problem has never come up for such a young person. Adults have stood it for a good many months, I know.”

“I see. Well, I should think you’d have a good excuse to be nastier than Aminadabarlee, at that rate. The gravity won’t bother his youngster.”

“No, but something else will. The synthesizers in the bathyscaphe produce human food.”

“So what? Isn’t Drommian metabolism like ours? They breathe oxygen, and I’ve seen them eat our food here on the Vindemiatrix”