"I'm not sure, but I suspect that it stinks." Chan didn't really want the attention on him. He had listened to Elke Siry with mixed feelings. On the one hand, what she said cleared up an awful lot of mysteries. On the other hand, the news that you'd been thrown into some different universe had all sorts of other implications. What else might be different here? Would a ship's drive work, even if you could get it out of the water?
But first things first. He went on, "When we arrived we had to shed our external shielding to slow our descent. That worked and we were able to make a soft landing on the seabed, though apparently it smashed the pinnaces beyond repair. The whole ship isn't in good shape, and I doubt it can ever make a Link transition. Many of our displays report abnormal status." He nodded toward Bony. "The Bun's the one to tell us what condition we're in, and make the fix-ups if they can be made. Unless one of the other ships might be a better choice?"
"Forget it." Bony didn't know the condition of the Hero's Return, but Chan's question was still one that he could answer. "The Finder, the ship that Vow-of-Silence and Eager Seeker used to come here, was on its last legs when we left it. By now it's a dead hulk. The Angel's ship, the Minister of Grace, was swept into deep water by the storm, and we haven't been able to contact it. And although we don't know where Friday Indigo took the Mood Indigo, he hasn't responded to any of our ships' signals. His own ship is well made but it doesn't have the structural strength of this one. If he went too deep, the hull would implode. Up near the surface, the storm might have smashed it to pieces."
Chan nodded. "So it's this ship, or nothing. How long will it be, Bun, before you can tell us where we stand?"
"Give me half a day and I'll give you a first guess." Bony hesitated. "Look, is it really this ship or nothing?"
"What other options do we have?"
"I'm not sure. But somebody made the Link entry point, here on Limbo. It's a Link like none we've ever seen before, located at a sea-air interface instead of out in space. We know it wasn't the bubble people who built it, they lack the technology. We know it wasn't any member of the Stellar Group, because the whole design is different. But there is someone else on this planet, and they are land dwellers. Also, they have technology. When we were ashore, Liddy and I saw one of their flying machines."
"Did you meet them?" Dag Korin asked.
"No. The aircraft flew over us, and gave no sign that it knew we were there. But if we can contact whoever made it, and if we can communicate with them, and if they are friendly and they will cooperate by lending us one of their machines and let us use it to travel through the Link entry point, then we won't have to rely on this ship at all."
Dag Korin raised shaggy white eyebrows. "Young man, do you realize how many conditions you just hung together in one sentence? But you're quite right. We need more than one string to our bow, and if the only answer is to find and strong-arm another bunch of aliens to get ourselves home, that's what we'll do. You concentrate on the condition of the Hero's Return, and the rest of us will think about ways to go ashore and meet the other aliens. One question, though. Do you have any idea whereabouts on land the other aliens might be?"
"No. But if they're users of the Link, you'd expect them to have a base of operations not too far away from it. That means within maybe a hundred kilometers of where we are now." Bony turned to Elke Siry. "You said something about orbiters that look down at the planet, as well as looking up at the sky."
"Quite right. Two of them, launched as soon as storm conditions permitted. They've been returning images ever since, surveying the surface of the planet."
"How good are their instruments? Would they see enough detail to pick out a town or a spaceport?"
"Easily. At their survey altitude they can observe something as small as twenty meters across."
Dag Korin interrupted. "But they haven't done it, have they? Doesn't that suggest there's no spaceport or settlement to be found on the surface?"
Elke Siry gave him a withering look. "Please, General. You should know better." While the others waited for Dag Korin to explode, she calmly continued, "The orbiters are making survey observations and returning billions of bits of data a second to be stored in this ship's data banks. But data are not the same as information. Before you can get the answers you want, you have to ask the right question."
Dag Korin nodded meekly—confirming everyone's view that the old General had a soft spot for Elke Siry. "And what, my dear, would the right question be?"
"We have to specify a description of what we mean by a settlement or a spaceport, and how it would look to the instruments on board the orbiters. And then we have to instruct the ship's computer to go through all the data received from the orbiters, searching for matches to our description."
"I wouldn't know where to start."
"But I would." Elke leaned over the control panel in front of her. "To begin with, may I bring the ship's computer in as a participant to the meeting? I need to specify a recognition template for settlements and spaceports, but I notice that the computer has not been present so far."
"That's my doing. I locked it out of control room activities, with instructions to interrupt only if there was immediate danger to the ship. Wait just a minute, though." Dag Korin held up a hand and addressed the whole group. "I hate today's womb-to-tomb style, in which every word you ever say can be dragged back and thrown in your face. Does anyone want to say something off the record? Remember, once the computer is in the loop, everything you say will go into the data banks."
"I wish to speak." Vow-of-Silence held up a thin forelimb. The Pipe-Rilla had so far been remarkably quiet. She stretched her long body forward, toward Dag Korin. "Sir, I am concerned about two things. First, the term `General.' It was used several times by Dr. Siry in addressing you. Is that merely an honorific, or are you a `general' in the military sense?"
Korin bristled. "Is there any other sense? What do you think I am, a general store? I'm a military general, and I'm proud of it."
"Indeed. Then my second question has added weight. In discussing what should be done to make it possible for us to return home, you used the phrase, `strong-arm another bunch of aliens.' Were you advocating the use of violence?"
"Hmm. Well, not exactly. I just meant—"
"Because if you had any such intention, I wish to make it clear that neither I, nor any other member of the Stellar Group, will sanction such action. There must be no violence. There are always better alternatives to violence."
"I'm sure there are." But Dag Korin's frown and jutted jaw added a silent, Like hell.
"With that understanding, I have no further comments and I suggest that the ship's computer should join this meeting."
"Everyone else agree?"
"Ready to roll." The Angel waved sedately.
"All right. Elke?"
She nodded and touched a pad sequence on the console in front of her. "Gamma-D, prepare to receive recognition templates prior to a search of the data banks received as orbiter survey data. I'm going to draw them."
UNDERSTOOD, WE ARE READY.
"Just one second." This time it was Chan Dalton. "I'm as keen to get home as anyone, and I don't want to hold this up. But before you start describing what the computer should look for, can't we have a quick status report? Even if it's not an emergency, I'd like to know if there's been any significant change in the ship's condition."
"That makes good sense." Dag Korin ignored Elke's impatient gesture. "Find out where you are before you decide where you're going, always a sound policy. All right, Gamma-D. Let's hear how things stand."
MANY ONBOARD FUNCTIONS ARE SUFFERING A SLOW ALTHOUGH AS YET NON-DANGEROUS DEGRADATION. IT WOULD BE ADVISABLE TO MOVE TO A MORE TYPICAL AMBIENT ENVIRONMENT.
"In other words," Liddy whispered to Bony, "don't stay underwater longer that you have to. For this we need a computer?"
"Shh!"
THE DEFENSIVE SHIELDS ARE LOST, AND THEY REMAIN IRREPLACEABLE WITHOUT A VISIT TO A MAJOR FLEET REFURBISH
ING CENTER. THERE IS MINOR HULL DAMAGE THAT DECREASES THE LEVEL OF TOLERABLE STRESSES UNDER ACCELERATED FLIGHT. A LIMIT OF TWO GEES SHOULD BE OBSERVED IN OPEN SPACE IN THE VICINITY OF A LINK TRANSITION POINT.
"Two gees in open space, near a Link point," Dag Korin growled. "Don't you wish!"
THERE IS NO OTHER DAMAGE TO THE SHIP ITSELF. HOWEVER, SOME COLLATERAL EQUIPMENT HAS SUFFERED FAILURE.
"What do you mean, collateral equipment?" Chan Dalton had been studying a new schematic of the Hero's Return that highlighted any problem area. "Everything here looks fine to me."
THE SCHEMATIC THAT YOU HAVE IS OF THE SHIP ITSELF, WHERE THERE ARE NO MAJOR FAILURES. WE REFER TO COLLATERAL EQUIPMENT IN THE FORM OF THE TWO OBSERVATION SATELLITES THAT WE LAUNCHED.
"Oh, no," Elke groaned. "We didn't get data from them? Gamma-D, I was relying on them to allow a ground search."
THAT WILL STILL BE POSSIBLE. MANY DATA WERE RETURNED, ENOUGH TO PROVIDE A COMPLETE SCAN OF THE WHOLE PLANET. HOWEVER, APPROXIMATELY TWO HOURS AGO THE SATELLITES FAILED.
"Both of them?" Elke's thin eyebrows rose. "Are you sure that it's not a problem with our onboard receiving equipment?"
THAT WAS OF COURSE CHECKED, AND IT IS IN PERFECT WORKING ORDER. ALSO, THE TWO OBSERVING SATELLITES DID NOT FAIL SIMULTANEOUSLY. THE FIRST FAILED TWO AND A QUARTER HOURS AGO, THE SECOND TWENTY MINUTES LATER.
"Radiation belts?" Elke said, more to herself than the computer. "Solar flare?"
WE RULE OUT BOTH THOSE POSSIBILITIES. COMPUTING THE TRAJECTORIES OF THE SATELLITES WITH RESPECT TO THE ROTATING PLANET, WE DISCOVERED THAT BOTH FAILED WHEN THEY WERE OVER THE SAME POINT OF THE PLANETARY SURFACE. THE PROBABILITY OF SUCH A FAILURE OCCURRING AS A RESULT OF NATURAL CAUSES IS NEGLIGIBLY SMALL. WE CONCLUDE THAT THE TWO OBSERVING SATELLITES FAILED AS A RESULT OF DELIBERATE DESTRUCTIVE ACTION UNDERTAKEN FROM THE SURFACE OF THE PLANET.
"Shot down, by God! Blown apart by bloody aliens." Dag Korin glared at Vow-of-Silence, as though daring the Pipe-Rilla to challenge his statement, but when he spoke again it was accusingly to the computer. "Gamma-D, why the devil didn't you tell us about this as soon as it happened?"
WE WERE INSTRUCTED TO INTERRUPT YOUR MEETING ONLY IF THERE WAS IMMEDIATE DANGER TO THE SHIP. WE JUDGED THAT WAS NOT THE CASE.
"Not immediate, maybe. But soon. Well, it was my fault more than yours." Korin slouched down in his seat. "Gamma-D, do you know the point on the surface where the whatever-it-is that destroyed our observing satellites came from?"
YES. TO REFINE THAT ANSWER, WE HAVE COMPUTED A LOCATION OF MAXIMUM PROBABILITY FOR THE ORIGIN OF THE DESTRUCTIVE ACTION. IT LIES FORTY-SIX KILOMETERS FROM THE SHIP'S PRESENT LOCATION. SHOULD WE DISPLAY IT?
"Damn right you should." Korin watched as an image of Limbo's whole hemisphere appeared on the screen, then zoomed in until one point of the surface showed highlighted by a flashing spark of light. "Well, I think we've answered one question and saved Elke some work. The job of finding an alien spaceport, settlement, military base or whatever has been done for us. We know where they are. And we know what they do. They shoot first, and later they ask questions. The question is, what do we do now?"
24: LIMBO PLANS
"What do we do now?"
Dag Korin had asked the question, but he acted as though he expected no answers. A couple of seconds later he stood up and said, "Well, we'll all think better when we've had some rest. It's been a long day, and I don't know about you but I'm bushed."
As he left the fire control chamber he unobtrusively gestured to Chan Dalton to follow. They walked through the dark interior of the Hero's Return, listening to the wheeze of air pumps and the groans and creaks of the stressed hull.
"The computer says we're in fair shape," Korin said gruffly, "but it doesn't sound that way to me. I want a more detailed analysis of the ship's condition. Hear that, Gamma-D?"
WE WILL PROVIDE A COMPLETE REPORT TO YOU.
"Soon as you can. You see, Dalton, the Hero's Return is a space cruiser, she was never built to sit at the bottom of some stinking ocean. My guess is that in a few days we'll have to get this hulk off the seabed and out into vacuum, or we'll be forced to abandon ship. And that raises some pretty interesting questions that I don't want to talk about yet."
The two men walked on in silence, past empty weapons chambers and massive drive engines, past the room housing the ship's master computer, past deserted crew quarters. It was like a ghost ship. Neither spoke until they reached a door of bilious green and passed through into Dag Korin's private quarters.
"Now we can really talk freely." Korin glanced at Chan. "Know why we're in here?"
"Computer?"
"Good man. I checked when I first came aboard. It's the main reason I chose this for my quarters—the only place on the ship that to my certain knowledge has no computer sensor feeds. Safer than asking the computer not to listen, which I've never had any faith in. This place goes back to the time when the Hero's Return was on active duty. You'd find one room like this on most military vessels, because in any army and any navy, there's a few things better left off the record. Sit down. And instead of me telling you, you tell me. Where do we stand?"
The general loosened his collar, which Chan took to mean that the conversation would be informal.
"We're in deep shit," he said. "Bad trouble. Right?"
Dag Korin nodded. "I think so. Trouble how?"
"Well, we seem to be in some `parallel universe,' whatever that means, with different physics. It's a big shock, but that sort of thing doesn't interest me nearly as much as it interests Elke Siry. I have more practical worries. Even if the ship were in good shape, we can't live on the bottom of the sea forever."
"If we could, we sure as hell wouldn't want to."
"So we have to get to the surface. But if we do, I can't see the Hero's Return being in any condition to stand a Link transfer back home."
"That's what my gut feeling tells me. We're matching tracks so far. Go on."
"So we have to find some other ship. But all the vessels that our different groups came in are either lost or worse off than this one."
"Do you believe that?"
"I wouldn't believe a computer. But I've known Bony Rombelle for a long time, and he's the best gadget man I ever met. If he tells us the other ships are lost, or pieces of junk that can't be fixed up, I believe him."
"Then I'll do the same—though when I was young I wouldn't have let a man who dressed as sloppy as that out of the ship's galley. What else?"
"The Link point. General, we didn't build it, and it's nothing like the ones we know. Throw in the different physical laws, and not even Bony can be expected to figure the transition protocol out from scratch."
"Understood. So?"
"So if we're going home, we have to locate and learn to talk to whoever built the Link."
"Exactly my conclusion." Korin glanced at Chan from under lowered brows. "And what we know about them already—unless there's two different technological alien groups on Limbo, which is pretty unlikely—isn't promising. In the only contact so far, they put two of our orbiters out of action for no reason except that we were making observations. So they have weapons. We don't. And they're either very nasty or very paranoid."
"Or both. But it's not completely true that we have no weapons. Deb Bisson always has a hundred personal killing tricks somewhere on her or in her."
"All very well if she can get near enough. Not good if the enemy has real firepower and can blow you away at a thousand kilometers. But we're getting close to what's really on my mind. We have to find out more about the land-based aliens, and we can't do it sitting here. This is where you earn your pay, Dalton. I want you to organize a shore party ASAP, and give us a land base ourselves." Korin stared at Chan's smile. "Suits your taste, doesn't it?"
"It sure does. I don't like to sit around in a metal can at the bottom of the sea. I didn't come here for that. I'm used to doing things."
"Good. So am I. So now let's get down to the reason I wanted to come
in here before we started to talk. You know the biggest obstacle in our way? No, it's not the hostile aliens—though they'll be bad enough. It's the friendly aliens who worry me. The Tinkers and the Pipe-Rilla and that damned oversized vegetable Angel, they're the ones who may make our job impossible. They say, no violence. But they don't tell us how to manage without violence. What do you do when somebody tries to shoot your ass off? In my book, you shoot right back, and if they have an ass at all you blow it away. And we're not allowed to. So here's what we have to do." In spite of his insistence that they could not be overheard, Korin leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. "The aliens are worried about me already, because I'm a General. I'm going to talk and act so they'll worry about me a whole lot more. You and your team do the exact opposite. All sweetness and light and talk of peaceful tactics. That way, the Stellar Group aliens are going to keep a close eye on me, here in the ship, and you'll be free to go and do whatever you have to ashore. Do you agree? Remember, once we're outside this room we won't be able to talk without being recorded."
"I agree with most of it. But I have a couple of worries. First, what happens if the aliens insist on coming ashore?"
"Are they likely to?"
"They are if they think we're going to meet other aliens. The Angel is supposed to be an unbelievable talent when it comes to languages. We have one of those talents ourselves, Tully O'Toole, unless his brain has been fried by Paradox. If it has, there's still Tarbush Hanson. He can talk to animals, and our aliens may be close to that. But the Angel may say it wants to go with us, anyway. I don't see how we can stop it."
"I have an idea on that. I think the Angel is the only possible one to work with Elke on a high-priority project I have for her. If some other alien wants to go ashore, don't try to stop it. Your people go, and when they're ashore they split into two groups. What other problems?"
"It's not so much a problem as a delay. I'm sure we can get ashore safely, because the Bun and Liddy Morse already did it. But we'll need maps, at least local ones, of the coastline and land areas. You said we should leave as soon as possible, but I'd like to wait until the computer produces the maps that Elke Siry asked for."
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