by Hal Clement
Albee had gotten away with about a dozen men. One of these had escaped through the co-operation of the Vegan, who, unable to run himself, had tripped up with an antenna the only guard in position to catch the man. Some twenty-five human beings lay about on the field, each held down by a single pentapod. Two swarms of the creatures were coming rapidly toward them, one from the ship and one from the fort. These formed a ring about the area, and Little found himself once more free to get to his feet. He did so, the others gathering round him.
All guns had disappeared, it seemed. One of the men had tried to use his when he had been intercepted, but his opponent had relieved him of the weapon before any damage had been done. Evidently the information had been broadcast, for all the other ion pistols had been confiscated, though the very similar flash tubes had not been touched. Injuries were confined to bruises.
Little was beginning to get ideas about his captors—he had, indeed, begun to get them some time since, as his cryptic remark to Albee had indicated. Every action they performed gave evidence of most peculiar motivation and thought processes, evidence which was slowly sifting its way through Little’s mind. He continued to let it sift as the men, still ringed by pentapods, began to march toward the fort.
The great outer gate opened into a chamber large enough to hold the entire group with room to spare. It was about fifteen feet high, metal walled, and possessed but two doors—the outer valve and another, smaller, in the opposite wall, giving access to the interior of the structure. As though the room were an air lock, the inner portal was not opened until the outer had shut. Then the group passed into a brilliantly lit corridor, stretching on ahead of them far into the bowels of the fort. Hallways branched from this at intervals of a few yards, some brightly lighted like the main passage, others in nearly total darkness. They had gone only a short distance when the men were stopped by their escort in front of a small doorway in the left-hand wall.
One of the guards activated a small control in the wall beside the door, causing the latter to slide open. The small chamber disclosed was evidently an elevator car, into which five of the pentapods beckoned an equal number of the men. The door slid to behind them, and several minutes of uneasy silence ensued. Little asked the Vegan if it knew where they were being taken.
“Our quarters are in a superstructure on the roof,” gestured the creature. “They may put you there, or on the roof itself. You can live in the open under this sunlight; we need supplementary lighting, both visual and ultraviolet. They have told me nothing. I do not even know whether we will be allowed to communicate any further—though I hope so. My companions and I have long wanted to have someone besides ourselves to talk to.”
“I suspect we shall be allowed as much contact as we wish—they may even quarter us in adjoining rooms,” remarked Little hesitantly. The Vegan eyed him closely for a moment.
“Ah, you have found a way into their minds, Earthman?” it asked. “I congratulate you. We have never been able to understand their motivation or actions in the slightest degree. It may, of course, be that they think more after your fashion than ours—but that seems unlikely, when your minds and ours are sufficiently alike to agree even on matters of philosophy.
“I am not at all sure I have penetrated their minds,” answered Little. “I am still observing, but what I see has so far strengthened the impression I obtained almost at the first. If anything constructive results from my ideas, I will tell, but otherwise I should prefer to wait until I am much more certain of my conclusions.”
The return of the elevator interrupted the laborious exchange of ideas. It had been gone many minutes, but the Vegan sign language is much slower than verbal speech, and the two allies had had time for only a few sentences. They watched silently as five more men and their guards entered the car and disappeared. There was little talk in the ensuing wait; most of the beings present were too fully occupied in thinking. One or two of the men exchanged low-voiced comments, but the majority kept their ideas to themselves. The Vegan, of course, was voiceless, and the guards stood about patiently, silent as ever, rock-still except for the slow, almost unceasing, wave of the black, blunt spines. They did not seem even to breathe.
The silence continued while the elevator returned and departed twice more. Its only interruption consisted of occasional faint metallic sounds of indeterminable origin, echoing and reechoing along the corridors of the vast pile. To Little, they were interesting for the evidence they provided of activity through the place, and therefore of the presence of a very considerable garrison. Nothing was seen to substantiate this surmise, however, although it was possible to view objects at a considerable distance along the well-lighted passage.
The elevator returned for the last time. Little, the few remaining men, and the Vegan entered, accompanied this time by only two of the pentapods, and the upward journey began. The car was lifted by an extremely quiet—or extremely distant—motor; the continuous silence of the place, indeed, was beginning to jar on human nerves. The elevator rose smoothly; there was no sense of motion during the five or six minutes of the journey. Little wondered whether the creatures had some ulterior motive, or were simply economizing on power—if the fort were only two hundred feet high, an elevator journey from ground to roof should take seconds, not minutes. He never discovered the answer.
The car door slid open to reveal another corridor, narrower than the one below. To the right it came to an end twenty yards away where a large circular window allowed the sunlight to enter. Little decided that they must be above the level of the outer wall, since no openings had been visible in it. The wall at this level must be set back some distance, so as to be invisible from a point on the ground near the building.
The party was herded in the opposite direction toward several doors which opened from the hallway. Through a number of these, light even brighter than the daylight was streaming; from others there emerged only the sound of human voices. The party paused at one of the brightly lighted doorways, and the Vegan turned to Little.
“These are our quarters,” telegraphed the creature. “They have permitted us to set up everything we needed for comfort. I would invite you to enter, but you should first find some means of protecting your skin against the ultraviolet radiators we have arranged. Dark goggles, such as Earthmen usually wear on Vega Five, would also be advisable. I shall tell my friends about you; we will converse again whenever possible. If my ears do not deceive me, your people are quartered along this same corridor, so we can meet freely—as you guessed we might. Farewell.” The bulky form turned away and hitched itself through the blue-lit entrance.
The creature’s auditory organs had not lied; the human crew was found occupying a dozen of the less strongly illuminated rooms along the corridor. Magill, who as quartermaster was senior officer present, had taken charge and had already begun to organize the group when Little and his companions arrived. One chamber had already been set aside as a storeroom and kitchen, and the food was already being placed therein. When the quartermaster caught sight of Little, he wasted no time in greetings.
“Doctor, I seem to recall that the Vegan said we could make several trips for supplies, if necessary. I wish you’d take a dozen men, try to make these creatures understand what you want, and bring up the rest of the food. Also, Denham wants that stove—he promises a regular meal half an hour after you get it here. Can do?” Little nodded; and the officer told off a dozen men to go with him. The group retraced their steps to the elevator.
Several of the pentapods were loitering at this end of the corridor. They made no objection as the doctor investigated the control beside the elevator door, and finally manipulated it; but two of them entered the car with Little and half of his crew, and accompanied them to the ground level. Little obtained one more bit of information as they started down: the elevator controls were like those of an Earthly automatic car, simply a row of buttons. He indicated the lowest, and made a motion as though to push it, meanwhile looking at one of the guard
s. This creature came over beside him, and with one of its tendrils touched a stud less than a third of the way down the panel. Little smiled. Evidently the fort was more underground than above, and must be a far larger structure than he had thought. It was nice to know.
They waited at the lower level, while one of the men took the car back for the others; then, accompanied by several more of the guards, they went outside. None of the men could discover how the doors of the entrance chamber were manipulated; none of the creatures accompanying them appeared to touch a control of any sort. The piles of supplies and equipment were still in front of the gate; nothing had been touched. Squads of the pentapods were hurrying this way and that around the great ship; some were visible, clinging to nets suspended far overhead against the hull, evidently repairing, cleaning, or inspecting.
A long line of the creatures was passing continually back and forth between one of the ports of the vessel and a small gate, which the men had not previously noticed, in the wall of the fort. They were bearing large crates, which might have contained anything, and various articles of machinery. Little watched them for a moment, then turned his attention to their own supplies.
The men loaded up and returned to the elevator, into which the food was piled. One man started up with the load and the others went back to the piles. This time Little turned his attention to the stove, which the cook had demanded. It had already been worked out of its pile and was awaiting transportation. The doctor first inspected it carefully, however.
It was an extremely versatile piece of equipment. It contained a tiny iron converter of its own, but was also designed to draw power from any normal standard, if desired. Being navy equipment, it also had to be able to work without electric power, if circumstances required precautions against detection; and a tube connection at the back permitted the attachment of a hydrogen or butane tank—there was even a clamp for the tank.
Little saw a rack of three gas tanks standing by a nearby pile, and was smitten with an idea. He detached one of them and fastened it into the stove clamp, which, fortunately, it fitted. Four men picked up the stove and carried it inside. The other tanks were removed from the rack and carried after it. They contained, it is needless to say, neither hydrogen nor butane. Little hoped that none of the watching guards had been present at the actual looting of the Gomeisa, and knew where those tanks came from. He had tried to act normally while he had fitted the cylinder and given orders to bring the others.
The elevator had not yet returned when they reached its door. The men set their burden down. To Little’s surprise, none of the guards had accompanied them—they had deduced, from the weight and clumsiness of the device the men were carrying, that watching them would be superfluous until the machine was set up. Or, at least, so reasoned the doctor. He took advantage of the opportunity to tell the men to be very careful of the cylinders they were carrying. They asked no questions, though each man had a fairly good idea of the reason for the order. They already knew that the atomic converter of the stove was in working order, and that heating gas was, therefore, superfluous.
When the elevator finally arrived, Little ordered the man who had brought it to help the others bring the rest of the food from outside. There was still a good deal of it, and it might as well be brought in, though a large supply had already accumulated in the storeroom. He finished his orders with:
“You’re free to try any smuggling you want, but be careful. They already know what an ion gun looks like, and we have been told that they’re very good at guessing. We don’t know, of course, what articles besides weapons they don’t want us to have; so be careful in taking anything you think they might object to. I’m going to take this load up.” He slid the door to and pressed the top button.
The same group of guards were waiting at the top. They watched with interest as several men helped the doctor carry the stove to the room which was to serve as the kitchen. There was not too much space left, for food supplies filled all the corners. Little smiled as he saw them—it seemed as though Magill were anticipating a long stay. He was probably justified.
Denham, the cook, grinned as he saw the stove. He had cleared a narrow space for it and fussily superintended the placing. He looked at the gas tank attached to it, but before he could express any surprise, Little spoke. He kept his voice and expression normal, for several pentapods had followed the stove into the room.
“Act as if the tank were just part of the stove, Den,” he said, “but use the iron burner. I assure you that the gas won’t heat anything.”
Denham kept his face expressionless and said, “O.K., Doc. Good work.” As though nothing unusual were occurring, he began digging supplies from the surrounding heaps, preparing the promised dinner. The doctor sought out Magill, who had just completed the task of assigning men to the rooms.
“Have you found out how this place is ventilated?” asked Little, as soon as he could get the quartermaster’s attention.
“Hello, Doc. Food in? Yes, we located the ventilators. Ceiling and floor grilles. Too small to admit a pair of human shoulders, even if we got the bars out.”
“I didn’t mean that, exactly. Do you know if the same system handles the rest of the building? And whether those grilles keep blowing if we open the window in a room?”
“We can find out the answer to the second, anyway. Come along.”
The two entered one of the rooms, which had been set aside as a sleeping room for three men. All the chambers on this side of the corridor had transparent ports opening onto the roof; after some juggling, Magill got one open. Little, standing beneath the ceiling inlet, was gratified to feel the breeze die away. He nodded slowly.
“I think we should form the habit of keeping the windows open,” he remarked. “Of course, not being too pointed about it. It may get a trifle cool at night, but we can stand that. By the way, I forgot to have the men bring up those sleeping bags; I’ll tell them the next time the elevator comes up. Do you think our faithful shadows”—Little nodded toward the two pentapods standing in the doorway—“would object if we went out on the roof? They let us open the window, and we could go out that way, in a pinch. There must be some more regular exit.”
“No harm in trying,” replied Magill. He led the way into the corridor, the two watchers moving aside for them, and after a moment’s hesitation turned left, away from the elevator. The guards fell in behind. The room they had been in was the last of those occupied by the Earthmen, and several lightless doorways were passed before the end of the passage was reached. They found it similar in arrangement to the other end, containing a large, transparent panel through which was visible a broad expanse of roof.
Magill, who had opened the window in the room, began to examine the edges of the panel. It proved openable, the control being so high above the floor as to be almost out of reach. The pentapods could, without much effort, reach objects eight feet in the air. The quartermaster, with a little fumbling, finally released the catch and pushed the panel open.
The guards made no objection as the men went out on the roof, merely following a few yards behind. This end of the hall opened to the southeast—calling the sunrise point east—away from the ship. From a position a few yards outside the panel, it was evident that the prison quarters occupied a relatively small, rectangular pimple near the north corner of the half-mile-square roof. The men turned left again and passed along the side of the protuberance. Some of the crew saw them through the windows, which Magill beckoned them to open. Denham had already opened his, and cooking odors were beginning to pour forth.
Crossing the few yards to the five-foot parapet at the edge of the roof, the men found a series of steps which raised them sufficiently to lean over the two-foot-thick wall. They were facing the forest to which Albee and the others who had escaped had made their dash. From this height they could see down the declivity at its edge, and perceive that a heavy growth of underbrush was present, which would probably seriously impede travel. No sign of the refugees cau
ght the eye.
The bow of the ship protruded from behind the near corner of the structure. Little and Magill moved to this wall and looked down. The line of pentapods was still carrying supplies to the vast ship, whose hull towered well above the level of the two watchers. It hid everything that lay to the northwest. After a few minutes’ gaze the officers turned back to the quarters. They were now at the “elevator” end of the superstructure, and found themselves facing the panel which had not yet been opened. Two of the men were visible, watching them from within; and Magill, walking over to the entrance, pointed out the catch which permitted it to open. No outside control was visible.
“The men have come with the rest of the food, sir,” said one as soon as the panel opened, “and Denham says that dinner is nearly ready.”
“We’ll be in shortly,” said the quartermaster. “You may tell the men they are free to come out and explore, if they wish.”
“I would still like to know if the ventilator intake is on this roof,” remarked Little as they walked on. “It must be somewhere, and the wall we saw was perfectly smooth. There doesn’t seem to be anything out in the middle of this place, so if it’s anywhere, it must be hiding in the shadow of the parapet. Can you see any irregularities near the edges?”
“No,” said Magill after straining his eyes in every direction, “I can’t. But we’re half a mile from two of the walls, and might easily miss such a thing at a much shorter distance. If it’s here, one of the men will find it sooner or later. Why do you worry about it, if you want us to use outdoor air directly?”