Hal Clement - Noise

The child had sighted and reported the ships; the walkers had been spotted moments later by Keokolo from the deck. Mike felt sure that ’Ao wouldn’t be blamed for missing them; her job after sighting the ships was to report any details she possibly could about them.

And it was quite evident that the members of the shore party had all appeared at almost exactly the same moment from behind a single ice mound, along a surprisingly level and low ice surface that seemed to continue away from the ocean. More coordination? How?

Well, the people had probably been in sight of each other, of course; but how about the ships?

If Wanaka had had any idea of making for the open sea she must have abandoned it at once. Not only was the wind extremely weak and there was no way to tell whether they could outsail the others, but Mata was a trading ship; traders didn’t flee from other vessels without strong evidence that they were pirates. The only such evidence to be expected at the newcomers’ present distance would be the presence of very large crews on their decks, and ’Ao quickly reported that there seemed to be only three or four people on each one and that cabin size was no greater than usual. Wanaka glanced upward, not at the girl but at the pennants floating from Mata ’s mast. These had been unchanged for many days, and Mike had been told that they signified the unknown nature of some of their present cargo.

Any behavior other than staying hove to for possible bargaining would be suspicious, even though they were being approached by a small fleet rather than a single vessel and even though the fleet happened to be spread out so as to cut Mata off from any reasonable escape route. That could be as purely chance as the appearance of the four vessels all at once.

Yes, thought Mike, that was a good way to put it, considering the number of other craft they had sighted since leaving Muamoto. Not much of a chance.

Keo was watching the captain intently, Mike saw, but offering no suggestions. She was the captain; he was only her husband. There was no way to guess what he might be thinking, until the situation changed abruptly. The two ships farthest from them, the ones in the middle of the arc, changed course at almost the same moment, the one on the left of the line as seen from Mata to starboard, the other to port. Keo relaxed visibly as their path to freedom began to open—slowly. The wind was very low, as he had noted, but Mata could sail very close to it. Wanaka’s reaction was less obvious, but her attention turned from the approaching ships to the people on the ice, now collected in a group partway up the smooth hummock that had concealed their approach.

Most of these, it could now be seen—the adults; there were three or four in the group of about ’Ao’s size—were carrying what might have been spears, though Mike had never seen such an implement on the planet. His brief uneasiness was dispelled when several of the poles were raised vertically and waved from side to side to display signal banners that had not been obvious in the feeble wind.

Hoani was still unable to read these, but the captain gestured Keo to the sails and took the tiller, heading Mata toward the ice. The people on shore watched with little apparent interest as the mate swam ashore with mooring lines. He was also carrying a number of the coral spikes, which he drove into the ice a few meters from the water and used for rather frail-looking bitts.

’Ao had descended from her perch, but so far had offered neither comment nor question.

“Want me to talk to them?” asked Hoani.

“We’ll wait ’til the ships arrive. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about—you were worried, weren’t you, Mike? But if they all represent one city it’ll be better to find who’s in charge before we start bargaining, and if they don’t it’ll be better to have them all together bidding against each other. I wish I could even guess what this metal is. If some of them know and we don’t, we could get badly taken.”

Mike, for the first time since leaving Muamoku, had a little trouble with the end of this speech. She was, he suspected, using some highly specialized trader’s slang.

“But don’t our banners say we don’t know? I thought that’s what you told me when we first loaded the metal.”

“Yes. I wouldn’t try to fool anyone on that point. Never try to play any game from ignorance. Right, ’Ao? But I’m hoping there’s more than one city in this group. If they start bidding against each other we can find out a lot, and there’s no way they can help that even though they’ll know we are. It would be nice to head for home, whenever we can find it, with something worthwhile aboard. We’d like to stay with our kid again for a while, but goodness knows what we’ll owe the school when we do get back.” Keo nodded silently.

“Keo, Mike, furl the sails,” Wanaka ordered. Mike couldn’t guess whether she had completely ceased to worry or was merely trying to give that impression, but the order didn’t surprise him. The next one did.

“Mike, get ashore and talk to them. Find out what you can, especially about their connection with these ships. Feel free to tell them anything you want about us and our cargo and you, but don’t say anything about ’Oloa beyond that she’s ’Ao’s doll, and not even that unless they ask. They’ll see right away that there’s something strange about you; no doubt they have already. They’ll certainly know after the first couple of sentences that you’re not a trader. They must be sure already that you’re not from any city on Kainui. Let them wonder about why you can handle languages so well—and if they ask, tell them. Keep them talking until those ships get here. Don’t worry about hiding any secrets except about the doll.”

The catamaran’s port hull was toward the ice and almost aground, so Mike simply slipped into the shallow water. There was a murmur among the masked, sound-armored figures, and even ’Ao, behind him, gave a rather shocked gasp. He did not, for some time, understand why; he did not even give the event a thought. He had been trying to decide how to open the conversation, but could think of nothing but a standard self-introduction. He chose to use unmodified Maori, and to follow the captain’s implied advice toward frankness as closely as possible.

“ Kei ti pehea koutou? I’m Mike Hoani. My captain is Wanaka from Muamotu. What’s your city?” The answer came in almost identical speech, uttered by one of the group whose hands were now empty, his or her pole having been laid on the ice. Mike did his best to find some visible clue to this one’s identity, since it would be discourteous not to recognize the speaker later. The main possibility seemed to be a colored pattern a little like ’Ao’s on the armor, fortunately applied to both chest and back, as he could see from some of others who weren’t facing him directly. Less fortunately, the pattern was extremely complex; Mike hoped he could remember enough of it.

“This is Aorangi, I am Hinemoa. We know of Muamoku, and have occasionally met crews from there. But surely you aren’t of that birth?”

Mike relaxed, slightly relieved at hearing a personal name that indicated the speaker was female but not inclined to put too much trust in the clue until he learned more about the current evolutionary status of the language. He explained in detail his origin and reasons for being on Kainui.

“Why did you come to speak to us, rather than your captain?” The question’s tone suggested mere curiosity rather than indignation, but Hoani felt there might be a minor breach of courtesy implied by the words themselves. He tightened up slightly, but answered with what he believed to be the truth.