H. M. Hoover

by The Rains of Eridan

  "A search party will probably come looking for me.”

  "Will they find you?”

  "Probably not—if I don’t want them to. Of course it will be dangerous flying below these clouds. If they can. Especially with no directional signal to guide them. They expect me to be up in the mountains.”

  Karen thought that over and sighed again. "I guess maybe you’d better let them know you’re here,” she said. She glanced over to get Theo’s reaction to that.

  “I think that would be wise,” Theo said calmly. “I admire your courage.”

  "Don’t. I’m very afraid.”

  "I know. That makes your decision all the more admirable.” Karen rolled over with a small groan. "Oh, Theo, what if . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought.

  "If they’re still fighting? If anyone tries to harm you, they’ll have to dispose of me first.”

  Karen looked up at her, eyes big and very sober. "Please don’t say that,” she said. "That’s what my parents said. They meant it, too.”

  IX

  THEY WAITED UNTIL MORNING TO PRESS THE PANIC BUTTON. IT WAS STILL RAINING, A STEADY GLOOMY DRIZZLE. THE VEGETATION HAD GROWN IN THE NIGHT. A WIRY GRASS FRINGE SURROUNDED THEIR TENT; THE TREES LOOKED LESS LIMP, AND THE AIR WAS FULL OF NEW SOUNDS, WHETHER OF INSECTS OR AMPHIBIOUS CREATURES THE BIOLOGIST COULD NOT TELL. AND SO WHILE SHE WAITED FOR THE RESCUE SHIP SHE SEARCHED THE SURROUNDING AREA FOR SPECIMENS.

  Karen stayed in the tent, wrapped in the sleeping bag and anxiety, and nothing Theo could say would ease the child’s fear. Every ten minutes the reply signal gave a soft but penetrating "deeep” pulse of sound, indicating receipt of a distress call and meant to reassure. But after each "deeep,” Theo felt her heart go

  thump and knew she, too, was afraid of what that ship might bring.

  It could bring one of the pilots making a routine pickup of a scientist in the field, as she hoped it would. Or, depending on the mental state of Base Three, it could bring a friend half mad with fear, as people apparently were at Base One. Or it could bring someone from Base One, if that staff had decided to do away with all Base Commanders, in which case both she and Karen were in jeopardy. Well, she decided, she would simply have to wait and see. The rain gave her little choice.

  She walked slowly in the general direction of the stream, noting there were fewer animals around this morning and wondering if they had found shelter against the rain, or were beginning to move on to warmer, drier areas. Beneath a small shrub three red weejees had fallen like discarded bow ties. She knelt and examined their gleaming wetness. They were whole, apparently dead of cold. A scavenger creature which resembled a many-legged meat pudding politely waited and watched her handling its breakfast. When she stood up to go, it sidled past her and settled over one of the bodies. With an inhalation like a small suction pump, it seemed to inflate itself, then exhaled, and moved onto the next morsel. It left behind a limp pink rag hardly noticeable in the grass.

  Closer to the creek a burnt-orange creature with leathery skin was moving up away from the water, its eyes dangling shrimplike above a toady body. It moved lethargically, and every few feet it would stop to peer about anxiously and emit a cry so vibrant that its entire being shook. When Theo approached, it did not hop away but rather stiffened its six legs and scuttled past her on fleshy tiptoes. She made no attempt to pick it up with her net. Try hard as she did to remain clinical, there were simply some creatures that were repulsive to her. This was one of them.

  A slow chill wind swept the leaves and ruffled the creek, causing her to look up in time to see the dark shadow of an aircraft moving south through the clouds. With the rain pelting her face, she felt like a diver watching a boat hull glide over the surface of the water. The signaling device in her pocket began to chatter a dit-dit-dit announcement of the craft’s arrival. Her first impulse was to call Karen. She opened her mouth, then stopped. It might be wiser to see who or what had come for them. She saw the shadow turn and circle back.

  It broke through the murk less than a half mile away. She realized how heavy the clouds were when she saw the craft had both running and fog lights on high beam and flashing, and they had not been visible until now. The pilot skimmed a wobbly circle over the plain, obviously looking for her as well as landing hazards. She could almost feel the pilot’s relief on spotting the tent. The craft lifted and swerved toward the tent’s beaconlike yellow glow, bobbed up to avoid a grove, and eased down to land. The ground squelched beneath the weight of the landing pods, and the forced air cushion sent water flying. When the power shut off, she hesitated for only a moment, took a deep breath, and said out loud, "Might as well get it over with.”

  It was a utility craft, a squat oval work vehicle designed to transport staff and equipment to inaccessible areas. With a whine the square hatch slid up, the landing ramp slid down. The interior was empty. Then a tall figure appeared in the opening, struggling to force its head through a slot in a waterproof poncho.

  "You’re shoving against an armhole,” Theo called. The struggle ceased for a moment.

  "What?” called a man’s voice.

  "That’s an armhole. Your head won’t fit.” Apparently he had come alone.

  "Ah.” The limp circle of blue fabric turned on the polelike body, jumped a bit and settled down over a curly head which emerged through the proper opening. "Thank you, Dr. Leslie.” He grinned down at her. "Want to come in out of the rain ?”

  Not until he smiled did she recognize the face beneath all that hair. When had he begun to grow a beard ? And why had the Base Commander come out to pick her up? Why not one of the regular pilots? As if anticipating questions, he said, "It seemed a nice day for a ride in the country.”

  She smiled back at him as she ducked under the hatch opening.

  Jonathan Tairas was from Palus, the oldest and richest of Earth’s colonial satellites, and there was about him, the envious said, the aura and the arrogance of the aristocrat. On long research missions, such as the Eridan Project, where isolation and loneliness sometimes created strange bonds, Tairas remained aloof, always at ease with his fellows but never intimate with anyone. Theo thought he had a good sense of self and of self-preservation. Both were qualities she admired and shared. She knew him only in a professional capacity, but what she knew of him she respected. He was that rare combination—a good scientist and a good administrator. But a good administrator did not act as an errand boy.

  "May I ask why I am thus honored ?”

  He looked as if he were about to give a flippant answer, then changed his mind. "You signaled for help. I wanted to be the first person to talk to you.” He paused to get her reaction. She remained silent, waiting, noting new stress lines around his eyes, his disheveled uniform, hands that trembled slightly. "There is no easy way to say it so I will be blunt. I didn’t know what mental state you would be in and I didn’t want you to be terrified by wild stories. There has been a mutiny. The Expedition Commander is either dead or being held hostage. The Vice Commanders are missing. All discipline is gone at Base One.”

  "And with us ? Base Three ?”

  "Our people are still disciplined, still sane. But morale is low. Between news of the mutiny and the fear and this greed—this 'gold fever’—for crystals ...”

  It all seemed to sadden him, Theo observed. He saw her studying him and he smiled self-consciously. "And you? Have you been well?” As if this were a social occasion, she thought. "It was the rain that prompted your call ? I was wondering if we would hear from you. And I was planning to come look for you tomorrow if we did not. Of course I wouldn’t have looked for you down here.”

  "It was the rain,” she assured him. "Now, you said the Orlovs had disappeared. Do you know where—how?”

  He shook his head. "There are rumors they were killed, other rumors that they fled with their daughter to the interior. I know the Orlovs; I cannot picture either of them acting with dishonor. ...”

  "They were brought out here,” Theo said sof
tly. She would not have guessed that he was so personally concerned about the Orlovs until she saw how his face lit with glad misunderstanding and such relief that she felt sad to have misled him. "I am afraid what I must tell you ...” she began, and related the pertinent events of that morning that now seemed so long ago. He listened, staring out at the rain. Tears he made no attempt to hide or check ran down his cheeks and glistened on his stubbly beard.

  When she had said all that needed saying, she stopped. They sat silently together. The rain plinked on the roof above them. Theo looked over at the tent and wondered if Karen was awake and frightened. Tairas fumbled in his pockets for a tissue and, finding one, blew his nose. Tears continued to leak out, and he wiped them away with his fingertips.

  "They were from Palus,” he said after a time. "We were children together. And cousins. But then, it is such a small colony that all Paluvians are cousins. Elizabeth, Simon, and I ... we were friends.”

  "And there are so many strangers,” said Theo, and his eyes met hers. In their lives, unless those they loved traveled with them to other worlds, they were left behind in time and space. When one traveled the distance of light years, most good-byes were, by the laws of physics, final. It was a fact Theo had forced herself to live with. It brought with it the freedom of an anchorite, and the discipline.

  "Come,” she said, and stood up. "The rain is depressing us. And sitting here solves nothing.”

  As they came down the ramp, the tent flap bulged out and Karen emerged. At the sight of Jonathan Tairas she started to smile, then caught herself and looked to Theo for confirmation. "It’s all right,” the woman called. "He’s safe.” And Tairas looked at her in surprise.

  "You distrusted me?” he said innocently, and then, reflectively, "Yes, I guess you would after what you’ve both seen.”

  His eyes narrowed and he studied Theo’s face. "If the rains hadn’t started, you’d have stayed out here?”

  "I begged her to,” said Karen. "Don’t blame her. She wanted to call for help right away. But I was scared. Is it safe for me to go back?”

  "As safe as it is for any of us.” He stretched out his arms to Karen. "I am so glad to find you,” he said and they exchanged a wet hug.

  From the air Base Three looked like a sprinkle of puffball mushrooms that had sprung up in the shade of massive trees. The trees surrounded a small artesian-fed lake whose eastern bank spilled in a series of steep falls to the beach. Framed by mountains and edging the sea, the site was a pleasant one. In the enthusiasm of the first few weeks it had been nicknamed Paradise.

  X

  "How small it looks,” Theo said when she saw it come into view. It seemed to her the camp had shrunk in the weeks of her absence, become more vulnerable to the endless miles of emptiness that surrounded it. "And deserted. Where is everybody? All the equipment?”

  "Under domes to keep dry.” He touched an intercom button on his chair arm. "Control, this is Tairas. Open the hangar. We’re coming in.” There was no response and he repeated, "Control? Open the hangar!”

  "Maybe they’re still in bed?” suggested Karen. She strained against her belt to sit high enough to look down at the base, but the belt held her snugly, frustratingly.

  "I don’t see anyone outside,” said Theo.

  Preoccupied, Tairas did not answer. Updrafts from the ocean were giving the craft a final buffeting as it cruised slowly down to land. They were close enough to the ground for Theo to see the trees shaking in the wind. It occurred to her that she had never before seen their branches move on this normally quiet world.

  "We’ll land outside,” Tairas announced. "We’re going to get wet again.”

  "That’s O.K. We’re used to it,” Karen said, and then, hesitantly, "Do you think anyone is going to ... uh ... do anything when they see me? Or afterward?”

  "They will treat you with the respect due your rank,” he said curtly, and the craft jerked upward as the airpods dropped. Theo glanced over at him and wondered if his barely concealed irritation was due to his inexpertise with the craft or the failure of his controller to reply. His entire manner had become formal once again. With seemingly one motion, he released his seat belt, opened the main hatch, and stood up. "Karen, Dr. Leslie—I have matters to attend to. We’ll talk over lunch.”

  As the hatch dropped, the compartment filled with the scent of rain and wet soil. Theo inhaled greedily, glad to be on solid ground again. It was raining hard here; water poured down the skin of the hangar dome; the wheel tracks that surrounded them were small rivers.

  Jonathan Tairas strode down the ramp and disappeared behind the curve of the dome.

  There was no sound other than the rain. She had not expected a reception committee, but it seemed to her that curiosity alone should have brought a few associates out to greet her. Evelyn Wexler and Philip, perhaps. But it had not. Suppressing a sigh, she collected Karen and her gear.

  The two of them sloshed off toward the living quarters. As they came around the big central equipment dome, the wide tree-lined central avenue of the camp stretched down to the sea. Waves, deepened by clouds to almost coffee color, were rolling up on the shingle beach, and piles of foam were blowing in the wind.

  "It’s prettier up here than Base One is . . . was,” Karen observed.

  "Fewer people,” said Theo distractedly.

  There was something odd about this place. Or perhaps it was her imagination. It just didn’t feel right. They saw no one during the long walk to the living quarters. The door of that dome hung half open in the wind, and the rain was beating in. She frowned to herself. "Careless,” she judged as she pushed her way into the lobby and turned to assure herself Karen was still with her. They stood dripping in the stillness, the carpet turning darker beneath them. Karen reached back and shoved the door shut. Rain lodged in the ball sockets of the hinges made a singing sound.

  "Hello?” Theo called into the quiet.

  "Maybe they’re all on duty,” suggested Karen.

  "Why are you whispering?” whispered Theo, and then, in a normal voice, "Let’s open the tent in the gym to dry. Then we’ll find you a compartment and some decent clothes. Come.” She turned briskly and walked down the curving hall, feigning an ease she did not feel.

  The building seemed so empty; she was beginning to suspect it was deserted. All mood lights were off leaving the walls white and bare. There was no music, no normal smells. In the stillness somewhere a ventilation fan whispered. For the first time she could hear the intermittent hush-hush-hush of the waves on the beach outside. Along the corridors privacy curtains were open, revealing unoccupied compartments. She hurried past them as if they were normal.

  The wall speakers made the chiming sound that always preceded an announcement. "Dr. Leslie. Dr. Leslie.” It was Tairas. Theo ran a few steps to the screen outside the gym. "Yes?”

  "Are you two all right?”

  "Yes, why?”

  "Is the building empty?”

  "It appears so. I haven’t looked . . .”

  "The entire camp’s deserted. I can’t find a soul. The land cruisers are missing.”

  "Aircraft?”

  "Here. If they left by air, someone came and got them.”

  "Have you checked the log?”

  "The last entry was mine at six this morning.”

  The staff was too professional, too well disciplined, to leave without making a log entry. She was silent for a moment, thinking, until she found enough courage to ask, "Are there any signs of violence?”

  Now it was his turn for silence, and she guessed with a tinge of surprise that the thought had not occurred to him. "No. At least I haven’t found any.”

  "So they left by choice.”

  "I don’t think so.” Karen’s voice was small. "Look in the dining room.”

  One glance at Karen’s face and Theo knew something wretched had happened. "I think you should come over here, fast,” she told his image and clicked off. "What is it?”

  Karen just shook her head. />
  Normally the most attractive place in the building, the dining room had one window wall overlooking the rocks and sea below. The carpeting was thick and green, the dining alcoves plush and private. Special lighting effects made textured patterns on walls and dome, and a Telarian-style fountain shimmered in the center of the room.

  The fountain still shimmered. It was all that remained intact in the big space. A scummy foam danced on the fountain basin beneath the spray. The window had been crushed in. It lay in crystal-like bits over half the once-green carpet that was now black and sodden. The tables lay scattered, the velvet foam seats crushed to misshapen lumps. Scattered about among the debris were bulgy masses of wet pink rags. There was a sick-sweet smell in the room.

  It seemed to Theo she had seen rags like that before. She stood in the doorway, staring, unable to absorb the idea, and there crept into her mind the image of the scavenger she had seen that morning. She saw it again over the fallen weejee—and what it left behind—and she knew she was going to be very sick. "What a mess,” she said mildly, for Karen’s benefit. "Uh . . . let’s go to my compartment?”

  "But what happened ? Was there an explosion ?”

  Theo didn’t have time. With a shrugging motion she dropped the pack to the floor with a clunk, grabbed Karen’s hand, and literally pulled her down the hall after her to her room. With her free hand she pressed the node that opened the privacy curtain, saw the area was intact, and when they both crossed the threshold, she closed the curtain behind them.

  "Sit there,” she said briskly, pointing to her bed. "I’ll be right back.” And in the sanit module she hoped the rush of water screened the sound of her retching. But her concern at sparing Karen’s sensibilities was mitigated by her own shock. "They were eaten,” a small nagging tape kept replaying in her consciousness, "eaten and the husks spit out,” and she would gag again.

  "Here.” A small hand grasped her chin, gently pulled her head back, and thrust something under her nose. There was a pop as the trauma-pac was squeezed. "Inhale slowly.” There was a second popping sound. "Once more. Inhale.” Theo found herself obeying. The minty gas felt good in her throat. She closed her eyes and laid her cheek against the cool rim. In a second a cold wet cloth was being pressed firmly against her forehead, another was fitted against the back of her neck and held there. "O.K. Sit up. Keep your eyes open. It helps the vertigo if you focus.”