Hal Clement - Close to Critical

“Maybe.” The scout started south without another word, and the rest of the group, who had long since broken their circle and gathered around the teacher, watched him go.

“That sounded good, Dr. Raeker. Should we keep the spot lights on just in case, from now on?” Easy Rich’s voice broke the silence.

“I wouldn’t, just yet,” Raeker said thoughtfully. “I wish I could be sure I wanted Swift to find you, instead of merely wanting to keep him from attacking us,”

“What?” Aminadabarlee’s voice was shriller, and much louder, even than usual. “Are you admitting that you are using my son as bait to keep those savages away from your little pet project down there? That you regard those ridiculously shaped natives as more important than a civilized being, simply because you’ve been training them for a few years? I have heard that human beings were cold-blooded, and scientists even more so than the general run, but I would never have believed this even of human beings. This is the absolute limit. Councillor Rich, I must ask your indulgence for the loan of our speedster; I am going to Dromm and start our own rescue work. I have trusted you men too long. I am through with that—and so is the rest of the galaxy!”

“Excuse me, sir.” Raeker had come to have a slightly better grasp of the problem the Drommian represented. “Perhaps, if you do not trust me, you will at least listen to Councillor Rich, whose daughter is in the same situation as your son. He may point out to you that the ‘ridiculous natives’ whose safety I have in mind are the only beings in the universe in a position, or nearly in a position, to rescue those children; and he may have noticed that I did not tell the savage even the little I heard of Easy and ’Mina’s description of the country around them. I am sure we will appreciate your planet’s help, but do you think it will possibly come in time? Before the human girl is permanently injured by extra gravity, and your son has exceeded your race’s time limit under vitamin and oxygen deficiency? I am not asking these questions to hurt you, but in an effort to get the best help you can give. If there is anything more you can do than keep your son’s courage up by staying where he can see and hear you, please let us know.”

Rich’s face was visible behind the Drommian’s in the jury-rigged vision screen, and Raeker saw the human diplomat give a nod and an instantly suppressed smile of approval. He could think of nothing to add to his speech, and wisely remained silent. Before Aminadabarlee found utterance, however, Easy came in with a plea of her own.

“Don’t be angry with Dr. Raeker, please; ’Mina and I can see what he’s doing, and we like Nick, too.” Raeker wondered how much of this was true; he wasn’t as sure himself as he would like to have been of what he was doing, and the children had not yet talked directly to Nick, though they had been listening to him and his people for a couple of hours. Easy, of course, was a diplomat’s daughter. Raeker had learned by now that her mother had died when she was a year old, and she had traveled with her father ever since. She seemed to be growing into a competent diplomat in her own right. “It doesn’t really matter if Swift does find us,” she went on. “What can he do to hurt us, and why should he want to?”

“He threatened to use fire on the robot if it didn’t come with him to the cave village,” retorted the Drommian, “and if he does the same to the ’scaphe’s hull when you fail to tell him something he wants to know, you’ll be in some trouble.”

“But he knew that Fagin didn’t speak his language, and was very patiently teaching it during the three weeks or so it was in his power; why should he be less patient with us? We’re perfectly willing to teach him anything we know, and we can talk to him with less trouble than Dr. Raeker could—at least, there won’t be the delay.”

A burst of shrill sound from Aminadorneldo followed and, presumably, supported Easy’s argument; Aminada-barlee cooled visibly. Raeker wondered how long it would last. At least, things were safe politically for the moment; he turned his attention back to Tenebra and to Nick.

That worthy had started his group back toward the original meeting place, with two running ahead—the herd had been unprotected quite long enough. Nick himself was standing beside the robot, apparently waiting for comment or instructions. Raeker had none to give, and covered with a question of his own.

“How about it, Nick? Will he come back? Or more accurately, will Swift go along with us?”

“You know as well as I.”

“No, I don’t. You spent a long time with Swift and his people; you know him if any of us do. Was I right in playing on his desire for things we could bring him? I realize he wanted to know about things like fire, but don’t you think it was for what he saw could be done with it?”

“It seems likely,” admitted Nick, “but I don’t see how it’s possible to be sure of what anyone’s thinking or what he’s going to do.”

“I don’t either, though some of my people keep trying.” The two started after the rest of the group, scarcely noticing the minor quake that snapped a few of the mor£ brittle plants around them. Nick almost unthinkingly gathered firewood as he went, a habit of years which had developed in the old village after the more accessible fuel near the hilltop had been exhausted. He had quite a stack in his four arms by the time they rejoined the others. This was piled with the rest; the herd was checked and the strays brought back together; and then Fagin called a meeting.

“You all heard what I told Swift’s man, about the machine which was stranded somewhere here with some of my people in it. If it is not found and fixed shortly, those people will die. You know as well as I that rescue of people in danger is of more importance than almost anything else; and for that reason, we are going to drop all other activities, except those needed actually to stay alive, while we look for that ship.

“I will give you a description, as completely as possible, of the place where they are. We’ll check all our maps for similarity—I’ll help you there; I can do it faster— and then you’ll go out in pairs to check all likely spots. If we don’t find them, mapping will proceed as rapidly as possible, to the exclusion of all other scientific activities.

“For the rest of today, Betsey and Nick will take care of camp and herd; search teams will be Oliver and Dorothy, John and Nancy, and Jim and Jane. I will assign an area to each of the teams as soon as the maps have been checked; in the meantime, you might all be gathering firewood for tonight.” The group scattered obediently.

The geologists in the Vindemiatrix had for some time been matching, or trying to match, Easy’s not too complete description of the bathyscaphe’s environs; they had come up with four or five possible locations, none of which made them really happy. However, when a sixth possibility was finally settled on, Raeker called the exploring teams back to the robot and assigned two of the hopeful areas to each team. These were all in the general direction of the old village, naturally, since the mapping had gone on radially from that point in the two or three years the cartography project had been going. They were all on the nearer side of that region, however, since the men who had done the matching had been influenced by the realization that the ’scaphe must have drifted seaward on the night that it moved. It seemed likely, therefore, that a day to go, a day to explore, and a day to return would suffice for this step of the plan. By that time, Swift might be back with his people, and the rate of search could be stepped up. That was why Nick had been kept behind at the camp site; he might be needed as an interpreter.