Hal Clement: The Nitrogen Fix

“I’ll go.” Earrin seldom actually overruled his wife with any success, except when he was right.

She did not argue this time, but settled thankfully down to rest again. The man waded down the steps and ducked under the wall. It was easy to see inside. The moon was high, and the light panels helped where it failed to reach. The tables which bore the planters prevented direct view of most of the room until Earrin was up the inside stairs, but he could see one man standing, unmasked, near the west wall and watching the Nomad enter. In the moonlight it took a few seconds to recognize Rembert, the first of the oxygen addicts he and Kahvi had met. The presence of this particular waster, however, was far less surprising than the fact that he was entirely alone. No other human being was in the room.

“I’m glad to see you, Nomad Fyn,” the Hiller said calmly. “I’m also glad that you weren’t badly hurt when I pulled your feet from under you the other afternoon. I’m afraid I over-reacted at the idea you were associating with an Invader.”

“Where did —?” Earrin didn’t have to finish the question. Rembert smiled broadly, and nodded toward the southwest corner of the jail. The Nomad followed the indication with his eyes, but at first saw nothing meaningful. The walls were solid, and certainly there could not be an air lock of some unheard-of design an airtight double door, or something of that sort. The craftsmanship involved in such stone work would be incredible, and the wall was of stone; Fyn had climbed it, and knew.

Then he saw the roof. For seconds he could not credit what his eyes were telling him, but they insisted. Clearly visible in the moonlight, a finger’s length from the south and west walls and extending nearly a meter along each from the comer where they met, was a row of square patches, each slightly overlapping the next.

“This tissue grows rapidly, too,” Rembert remarked happily. “I’m sure you’d be glad to have some of the culture.”

You-cut-the-roof-open.” The Nomad could barely get the words out.

“That’s right. I patched it right up again, though, when everyone else had gotten out. They were very kind. They went as fast as they could without making noise, so I wouldn’t lose much oxygen. I must say the level seems low now, though. There was more exchange through the hole than I expected; I must say I don’t see why. There was quite a breeze in through the opening, but that didn’t make sense.”

Earrin, still far too shocked to speak, nodded toward the cylinder of cartridge tissue floating on the water of the lock, still bobbing from his own passage. Rembert looked puzzled, and Fyn at last found enough voice to explain.

“It’s the stuff that goes in breathing cartridges. If the oxygen around it is above a certain concentration it soaks it up; if lower, it gives it off. I’m surprised you never learned about it.”

“I never bothered t o go outside until recently. My friends taught me how to use a mask, but didn’t mention all those details.” Fyn restrained himself from the obvious remark about the friends, and changed the subject.

“Why didn’t you leave with the others?”

“Why, Earrin! I’m surprised at you! Someone had to patch the roof, obviously. I volunteered because of course I expected to have the whole roomful of oxygen to myself after they were gone. I didn’t count on your rather unfair trick with that awful tissue. We’ll have to develop one with a higher equilibrium, for interim use.

“And your friends deserted you here?”

“Oh, they’ll be back, with others. You didn’t really expect to keep us fooled, or in your power, for very long, did you?”

“Why not? The natives are still with us. Even if you bring a lot of help, they can still — ”

“Didn’t your alien friend tell you about the unpleasant things we can do? You really haven’t come to appreciate all the uses of edged and pointed tools, my friend.”Earrin made no answer to this. Bones had by now told him about the spears and glass splinters. He could not blame himself or Kahvi for not foreseeing the escape; the method used was completely unthinkable to any Nomad. Even city dwellers would not normally have wasted air so grossly. These youngsters, however, seemed to have made a major break with everything Earrin regarded as natural and proper. Since these included normal methods of self-preservation, it didn’t seem likely that the group could last long; but they could be dangerous while they did.

If several dozen, or perhaps a hundred, of them came back to the jail with those weapons, they would be in control again at once. Even if the human enemies could improvise foot protection, it was hard to see what could be done for the walking-tentacles of the natives; and while the latter seemed able to survive spears, the human opponents could not. There was nothing which could be fashioned into shields — that concept came more naturally to Fyn than it had to Bones — since the local realwood was available only in narrow strips rather than boards.

Wickerwork did not occur to him, and would have been dismissed as inadequate and too time consuming if it had.

All this musing, he told himself abruptly, was futile. They were all in danger. Kahvi and the others had to be warned, and the children taken out of reach of the menace. Duty or not, if the little ones fell into the hands of these me-first youngsters, Earrin knew he would obey orders.

“Breathe easy,” he said suddenly and automatically to Rembert, and ducked through the air lock.

Kahvi couldn’t believe his report until she had climbed to the roof to examine it for herself. Once convinced, however, she thought rapidly.

“We could get the raft out of their reach easily enough; they can’t be back for hours yet. The trouble is that there isn’t air for all of us in the tent, and won’t be even after the sun comes up. It would take t he plants a day or more to grow enough new leaf surface. It looks as though you others will have to get back to the city quickly with your children.”

“We could take yours, too,” pointed out Zhamia.

“No, thanks.” Kahvi was emphatic, but offered no reasons. “It’s a pity to wake them up; they’ve had a hard night already. I don’t see any — ”

“It would really be a pity, as you say,” Rembert’s voice interrupted. None of them had seen him emerge from the jail; they had been far too concerned with their own problems. “Do you really suppose we were so stupid as to allow you that chance? Only one person went back to help; the others are watching from Hemenway for the ridge. If you try to take your children past them to the city, you will certainly regret it. You may as well let them sleep. As you suggest, nothing more is likely to happen before morning. Please explain all this to your Invader friends, too; they may not have understood me clearly, and it would be a pity if they annoyed us.”

Fyn was already gesturing to the two Boneses, and getting response. Rembert could not understand the responses, of course, but seemed unworried by the fact. He was as sure that his side was in power as Kahvi and Earrin had been about theirs so shortly before. Rembert couldn’t see what the others might do; that was enough for him.

But even Earrin, slow-witted as he was, saw what might be done-background information, not brilliance, made the difference. The first thing was to get the children out of the Hillers’ reach — he included automatically the two who were not his own. He gave little thought about what would happen to himself and adult companions; there was always the city, which had plenty of air in spite of Genda’s ideas. Obviously, one or both of the natives should take the raft out of reach of the Hillers as soon as possible. Earrin gestured this, together with his reasons, to his duplicate friends.