Hal Clement: Close to Critical

“I see,” he said through the robot after a few minutes. “But I think I see a catch.”

“What?” Easy snapped the question with a speed which suggested she had some doubts of her own.

“That ship was computed around the lift of hydrogen. How do you know that stuff you’re using will lift you high enough for your boosters to work, even if an engineer gets aboard to—”

“What makes you think this gas isn’t hydrogen?”

“What makes you think it is?”

“What else is lighter than water, in the gas state, that’s likely to be found on this planet?”

“Why, lots of things, I guess—I—I don’t know; I hadn’t thought of that.” Realization struck him. “You’ve been talking to the engineers!”

“Of course. I don’t mean to be rude, but where else could I learn anything useful about this ship? I’ll admit you know the planet, but that wasn’t enough.”

“I see,” said Raeker slowly. “I hadn’t thought as much as I should about the machine; but I did ask the engineers about its wiring—and say! won’t you need that anyway? What are you going to do when they get enough gas into your cells to lift the ship out of their reach, but not enough to get you any higher? Hadn’t you better have them tie the ship down, at least? You’d better wait until we—”

He was interrupted by laughter. It didn’t come from Easy, who had looked impressed for a moment, but from the scientists in the observation chamber. Raeker realized that they were laughing at him, and for a moment was furious; then he realized he had asked for it. He put the best face he could on the matter while one of them carefully explained a little elementary physics.

And that, really, was all. Nick put to use the knowledge he had picked up in balancing on the experimental float, and made sure there were always more forward cells full than after ones. When the ship lifted, it naturally rode the wind toward the volcano; and it rose so slowly at first that the children had a good look at the terrifying sight. They dipped frighteningly toward the glowing mountain as it entered warmer air, but recovered in ample time as the hydrogen in its cells also warmed up. Gradually the glow faded out below them, and Easy and her friend waited happily to meet the shuttle.

“I told you human beings were helpless and useless.” Happy as he was, Aminadabarlee gave up his ideas with difficulty. “You spend weeks trying to rig a rescue, and then are outsmarted by a savage with less education than either of these children. You spend a decade or two training agents of your own on the planet, and learn more useful facts in a week from natives you never bothered to contact directly.”

“Natives who would have tried to eat the robot if any such attempt had been made,” Easy pointed out. “Remember, ’Mina and I know Swift. He respected the, robot because it could talk and tell him things. He’d have ignored it or destroyed it otherwise.”

Aminadabarlee’s eyes sought his son, who made a gesture of agreement. “Well, anyway, the natives with their own culture are a lot more use, and I’ll prove it soon enough.”

“How?” asked Raeker.

“I’ll have a Drommian project here in three months. We can talk to Swift as well as you, and we’ll see who learns more about geophysics in general and Tenebra in particular after that.”

“Wouldn’t it be more profitable to run the projects jointly, and exchange information?”

“You’d certainly have to say that,” sneered the non-human. “I’ve had enough of cooperation with human beings, and so has the rest of Dromm, if my opinion’s good for anything. You learned Swift’s language, didn’t you, son?”

“Yes, Dad, but—”

“Never mind the but. I know you like Easy, and I suppose she’s a little less poisonous than most human beings after the time she spent with you, but I know what I’m talking about. Here—use the robot voice and call Swift over to it; you can say something to him for me.”

“But I can’t, Dad.” Even the human beings could see that the youngster was uncomfortable.

“Can’t? What do you mean? You just said you’d learned enough of their language—”

“Oh, I understand it well enough. I just can’t speak it.”

“You mean you just listened, and let that human girl do all the talking? I’m ashamed of you. You know perfectly well that no chance to learn the use of a new language should ever be missed.”

“I didn’t miss it, Dad.” Aminadabarlee seemed to swell slightly.

“Then, in the name of both suns, tell me what you did do!” His voice came closer to a roar than anyone in the room had ever heard from him. Aminadorneldo looked a little helplessly at Easy.

“All right, ’Mina,” the girl said. “We’ll show him.”

The two took their places before the microphone, which Easy snapped on. Then, keeping their eyes fixed on each other, they began to speak in unison. The sounds they produced were weird; sometimes both were together, sometimes the Drommian carried a high note alone, somtimes Easy took the deeper registers. A similar sound, which Raeker recognized perfectly well and understood slightly, came from the speaker; Easy started an answer, using her hands to guide her “little” companion on what words were coming next. They had apparently worked out a fairly satisfactory deaf-mute code between them; and While they spoke much more slowly than Swift, they were obviously perfectly clear to the native.

“He’s here, Councillor,” Easy remarked after a moment. “What did you want to say to him? This particular translating team is ready to go to work. I do hope you’ll forgive ’Mina for cooperating with a human being. There really wasn’t any other way, you know.”

Nobody laughed.