The Martian Way and other Stories Part 8
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THREE.
The swaying had come to a halt and it was dark. The Explorer was not comfortable in the alien air. It felt as thick as soup and he had to breath shallowly. Even so- He reached out in a sudden need for company. The Merchant was warm to the touch. His breathing was rough, he moved in an occasional spasm, and was obviously asleep. The Explorer hesitated and decided not to wake him. It would serve no real purpose.
There would be no rescue, of course. That was the penalty paid for the high profits which unrestrained compet.i.tion could lead to. The Merchant who opened a new planet could have a ten-year monopoly of its trade, which he might hug to himself or, more likely, rent out to all comers at a stiff price. It followed that planets were searched for in secrecy and preferably away from the usual trade routes. In a case such as theirs then, there was little or no chance that another s.h.i.+p would come within range of their subetherics except for the most improbable of coincidences. Even if they were in their s.h.i.+p, that is, rather than in this-this-cage.
The Explorer grasped the thick bars. Even if they blasted those away, as they could, they would be stuck too high in open air for leaping.
It was too bad. They had landed twice before in the scout s.h.i.+p. They had established contact with the natives, who were grotesquely huge, but mild and unaggressive. It was obvious that they had once owned a flouris.h.i.+ng technology, but hadn't faced up to the consequences of such a technology. It would have been a wonderful market.
And it was a tremendous world. The Merchant, especially, had been taken aback. He had known the figures that expressed the planet's diameter, but from a distance of two light-seconds, he had stood at the visiplate and muttered, "Unbelievable!"
"Oh, there are larger worlds," the Explorer said. It wouldn't do for an Explorer to be too easily impressed.
"Inhabited?"
"Well, no."
"Why, you could drop your planet into that large ocean and drown it."
The Explorer smiled. It was a gentle dig at his Arcturian homeland, which was smaller than most planets. He said, "Not quite."
The Merchant followed along the line of his thoughts. "And the inhabitants are large in proportion to their world?" He sounded as though the news struck him less favorably now.
"Nearly ten times our height."
"Are you sure they are friendly?"
"That is hard to say. Friends.h.i.+p between alien intelligences is an imponderable. They are not dangerous, I think. We've come across other groups that could not maintain equilibrium after the atomic war stage and you know the results. Introversion. Retreat. Gradual decadence and increasing gentleness."
"Even if they are such monsters?"
"The principle remains."
It was about then that the Explorer felt the heavy throbbing of the engines.
He frowned and said, "We are descending a bit too quickly."
There had been some speculation of the dangers of landing several hours before. The planetary target was a huge one for an oxygen-water world. Though it lacked the size of the uninhabitable hydrogen-ammonia planets and its low density made its surface gravity fairly normal, it gravitational forces fell off, but slowly with distance. In short, its gravitational potential was high and the s.h.i.+p's calculator was a run-of-the-mill model not designed to plot landing trajectories at that potential range. That meant the Pilot would have to use manual controls.
It would have been wiser to install a more high-powered model, but that would have meant a trip to some outpost of civilization; lost time; perhaps a lost secret. The Merchant demanded an immediate landing.
The Merchant felt it necessary to defend his position now. He said angrily to the Explorer, "Don't you think the Pilot knows his job? He landed you safely twice before."
Yes, thought the Explorer, in a scout s.h.i.+p, not in this un-maneuverable freighter. Aloud, he said nothing.
He kept his eye on the visiplate. They were descending too quickly. There was no room for doubt. Much too quickly.
The Merchant said peevishly, "Why do you keep silence?"
"Well then, if you wish me to speak, I would suggest that you strap on your floater and help me prepare the ejector."
The Pilot fought a n.o.ble fight. He was no beginner. The atmosphere, abnormally high and thick in the gravitational potential of this world, whipped and burned about the s.h.i.+p, but to the very last, it looked as though he might bring it under control despite that He even maintained course, following the extrapolated line to the point on the northern continent toward which they were headed. Under other circ.u.mstances, with a shade more, luck, the story eventually would have been told and retold as a heroic and masterly reversal of a lost situation. But within sight of victory, tired body and tired nerves damped a control bar with a shade too much pressure. The s.h.i.+p, which had almost leveled off, dipped down again.
There was no room to retrieve the final error. There was only a mile left to fall. The Pilot remained at his post to the actual landing, his only thought that of breaking the force of the crash, of maintaining the s.p.a.ceworthiness of the vessel. He did not survive. With the s.h.i.+p buckling madly in a soupy atmosphere, few ejectors could be mobilized and only one of them in time.
When afterward the Explorer lifted out of unconsciousness and rose to his feet, he had the definite feeling that but for himself and the Merchant, there were no survivors. And perhaps that was an overcalculation. His floater had burned out while still sufficiently distant from surface to have the fall stun him. The Merchant might have had less luck, even, than that.
He was surrounded by a world of thick, ropy stalks of gra.s.s, and in the distance were trees that reminded him vaguely of similar structures on his native Acturian world except that their lowest branches were high above what he would consider normal treetops.
He called, his voice sounding ba.s.so in the thick air, and the Merchant answered. The Explorer made his way toward him, thrusting violently at the coa.r.s.e stalks that barred his path.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
The Merchant grimaced, "I've sprained something. It hurts to walk."
The Explorer probed gently. "I don't think anything is broken. You'll have to walk despite the pain."
"Can't we rest first?"
"It's important to try to find the s.h.i.+p. If it is s.p.a.ceworthy or if it can be repaired, we may live. Otherwise, we won't."
"Just a few minutes. Let me catch my breath."
The Explorer was glad enough for those few minutes. The Merchant's eyes were already closed. He allowed his to do the same.
He heard the trampling and his eyes snapped open. "Never sleep on a strange planet," he told himself futilely.
The Merchant was awake too and his steady screaming was a rumble of terror.
The Explorer called, "It's only a native of this planet. It won't harm you."
But even as he spoke, the giant had swooped down, and in a moment, they were in its grasp, being lifted closer to its monstrous ugliness.
The Merchant struggled violently and, of course, quite futilely. "Can't you talk to it?" he yelled.
The Explorer could only shake his head. "I can't reach it with the projector. It won't be listening."
"Then blast it. Blast it down."
"We can't do that." The phrase "you fool" had almost been added. The Explorer struggled to keep his self-control. They were swallowing s.p.a.ce as the monster moved purposefully away.
"Why not?" cried the Merchant. "You can reach your blaster. I see it in plain sight. Don't be afraid of falling."
"It's simpler than that. If this monster is killed, you'll never trade with this planet. You'll never even leave it. You probably won't live the day out."
"Why? Why?"
"Because this is one of the young of the species. You should know what happens when a trader kills a native young, even accidentally. What's more, if this is the target point, then we are on the estate of a powerful native. This might be one of his brood."
That was how they entered their present prison. They had carefully burned away a portion of the thick, stiff covering and it was obvious that the height from which they were suspended was a killing one.
Now, once again, the prison cage shuddered and lifted in an upward arc. The Merchant rolled to the lower rim and startled awake. The cover lifted and light flooded in. As was the case the time before, there were two specimens of the young. They were not very different in appearance from adults of the species, reflected the Explorer, though, of course, they were considerably smaller.
A handful of reedy green stalks was stuffed between the bars. Its odor was not unpleasant but it carried clods of soil at its ends.
The Merchant drew away and said huskily, "What are they doing?"
The Explorer said, "Trying to feed us, I should judge. At least, this seems to be the native equivalent of gra.s.s."
The cover was replaced and they were set swinging again, alone with their fodder.
FOUR.
Slim started at the sound of footsteps and brightened when it turned out to be only Red.
He said, "No one's around. I had my eye peeled, you bet."
Red said, "Ssh. Look. You take this stuff and stick it in the cage. I've got to scoot back to the house."
"What is it?" Slim reached reluctantly.
"Ground meat. Holy smokes, haven't you ever seen ground meat? That's what you should've got when I sent you to the house instead of coming back with that stupid gra.s.s."
Slim was hurt. "How'd I know they don't eat gra.s.s? Besides, ground meat doesn't come loose like that. It comes in cellophane and it isn't that color."
"Sure-in the city. Out here we grind our own and it's always that color till it's cooked."
"You mean it isn't cooked?" Slim drew away quickly.
Red looked disgusted. "Do you think animals eat cooked food? Come on, take it. It won't hurt you. I tell you there isn't much time."
"Why? What's doing back at the house?"
"I don't know. Dad and your father are walking around. I think maybe they're looking for me. Maybe the cook told them I took the meat. Anyway, we don't want them coming here after me."
"Didn't you ask the cook before you took this stuff?"
"Who? That crab? Shouldn't wonder if she only let me have a drink of water because Dad makes her. Come on. Take it."
Slim took the large glob of meat though his skin crawled at the touch. He turned toward the barn and Red sped away in the direction from which he had come.
Red slowed when he approached the two adults, took a few deep breaths to bring himself back to normal, and then carefully and nonchalantly sauntered past. (They were walking in the general direction of the barn, he noticed, but not dead on.) He said, "Hi, Dad. h.e.l.lo, sir."
The Industrialist said, "Just a moment, Red. I have a question to ask you."
Red turned a carefully blank face to his father. "Yes, Dad?"
"Mother tells me you were out early this morning."
"Not real early, Dad. Just a little before breakfast."
"She said you told her it was because you had been awakened during the night."
Red waited before answering. Should he have told Mom that?
Then he said, "Yes, sir."
"What was it that awakened you?"
Red saw no harm in it. He said, "I don't know. Dad. It sounded like thunder, sort of, and like a collision, sort of."
"Could you tell where it came from?"
"It sounded like it was out by the hill." That was truthful, and useful as well, since the direction was almost opposite that in which the barn lay.
The Industrialist looked at his guest "I suppose it would do no harm to walk toward the hill."
The Astronomer said, "I am ready."
Red watched them walk away, and when he turned, he saw Slim peering cautiously out from among the briers of a hedge.
Red waved at him. "Come on."
Slim stepped out and approached. "Did they say anything about the meat?"
"No. I guess they don't know about that. They went down to the hill."
"What for?"
"Search me. They kept asking about the noise I heard. Listen, did the animals eat the meat?"
"Well," said Slim cautiously, "they were sort of looking at it and smelling it or something."
"Okay," Red said, "I guess they'll eat it. Holy smokes, they've got to eat something. Let's walk along toward the hill and see what Dad and your father are going to do."
"What about the animals?"
"They'll be all right. A fellow can't spend all his time on them. Did you give them water?"
"Sure. They drank that."
The Martian Way and other Stories Part 8
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The Martian Way and other Stories Part 8 summary
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