Heavy Planet

by Hal Clement

  “I suppose it would wreck your refrigeration system, especially if you couldn’t get it back,” agreed Benj. “Still, maybe it’s not that bad. Let me find an engineer who really knows that system. I have an idea. I’ll call you back later.” The boy slid out of his seat without waiting for Dondragmer’s reply, and left the communication room on the run. The moment he was gone, the observers who had not understood the language asked Easy for a summary of the conversation, which she gladly supplied. When Benj returned with an engineer in tow, those in hearing frankly abandoned their jobs to listen. Several heartfelt prayers of thanksgiving must have ascended when it was noted that the newcomer was not a linguist, and the boy was interpreting for him. The two settled into seats before the screens, and Benj made sure he knew what to say before energizing his microphone. “I should tell the captain that most of the fastenings holding the radiator bar to the Kwembly’s skin are sort of nails; they only go a little way into the skin and can be pried out without damaging the hull. It might be necessary to use cement to fasten them back in afterward but the supplies are there. The connections at the rear will have to be cut, though. The alloy isn’t very hard and saws will be able to handle it. Once detached, the bar can be used as a resistance heater simply by pushing its ends into the D.C. holes in a power box. I can tell the captain that there is no danger from a short circuit, since the converters have internal safeties. Is that right, Mr. Katini?”

  “That’s it,” the small, grizzled engineer replied with a nod. He was one of those who had helped design and build the land-cruisers and one of the very few human beings actually to spend much time at Mesklin’s three-gravity equator. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble making it clear to Dondragmer, even without translation; I?ll tell him directly if you wish. He and I always got along easily enough in my own language.? Benj nodded acknowledgment of this, but started speaking into his microphone in Stennish. Easy suspected that he was showing off and hoped that it wouldn’t backfire on him too badly but saw no real need to interfere. She had to admit that he was doing a good job of the translation. He must have picked up a great deal from his friend Beetchermarlf. In some ways he was doing better than she would have herself; he was using analogies which should be meaningful to the captain but which would not have occurred to her. When the captain’s answer came back it was in the human tongue. Dondragmer had seen the most probable reason why Benj, rather than the engineer who had provided the information, should be doing the talking. The boy looked a little startled, and confirmed his mother’s suspicions by glancing quickly at her. She carefully kept her eyes on Dondragmer’s screen. “I have the picture,” the Mesklinite’s slightly accented voice came through. He was not always perfectly successful in confining his voice to the human audibility range. “We can detach the refrigerator bar and use it, with a power box, as a heater to melt the ice around the ship. There will be plenty of power in the converter and no danger of blowing it up. Please clear up two points, however. “First, how can we be sure that we can reconnect the bar electrically afterward? I know enough to doubt that cement is the right method. I don’t want to lose the refrigerator system permanently, since Dhrawn is approaching its sun and the weather will be getting warmer. “Second, with the metal carrying a current touching the ice, or dipping into the melted water, will there be any danger to people on, in, or under that water? Will the air suits be protection enough? I suppose they must be pretty good electrical insulators, since they are transparent.” The engineer began to answer at once, leaving Benj to wonder what connection there might be between transparency and electrical conductivity and how Dondragmer, with his background, happened to be acquainted with it. “You can make the connection easily enough. Simply have the metal ends pressed tightly together and use the adhesive to fasten a wrapping of fabric around the joint. You’re right about the glue’s conductance; make sure it doesn’t get between the metal surfaces. “Also, you needn’t worry about electrocuting anyone in an air suit. They’ll be adequate protection. I suspect that it would take a lot of voltage to hurt you people anyway, since your body fluids are non-polar, but I have no experimental proof and I don’t suppose you want any. It occurred to me that you might do better by striking an arc at the surface of the ice, which should have enough ammonia to be a fair conductor. If it works at all, it should work very well. Only it may be too hot for any of your men to stay in the neighborhood and it would have to be controlled carefully. Come to think of it, the procedure would destroy too much of the bar to let you get the system together again afterward. We?d better stick to simple resistance heating, and be satisfied with melting the ice rather than boiling it.? Katini fell silent, and waited for Dondragmer?s answer. Benj was still thinking, and all the others within hearing had their eyes fixed on the captain?s screen. His shift of language had attracted even those who might otherwise have waited patiently for a translation. This was unfortunate from the human viewpoint. Barlennan, later, wrote it off as a stroke of luck. “All right,” Dondragmer’s answer finally came. “We will take off the metal bar and try to use it as a heater. I am now ordering men outside to start detaching the small brackets. I will have one of the communicators set up outside so that you can watch as we cut through the conductors, and check everything before we turn on power. We will work slowly, so that you can tell us if we are doing something wrong before it has gone too far. I don’t like this situation — I don’t like doing anything when I am so unsure of what is happening and what is likely to happen. I’m supposed to be in command here and I can only wish I had learned more of your science and technology. I may have an accurate picture as far as it goes and I’m sure I can trust your knowledge and judgment for the rest but it’s the first time in years I’ve been so uncertain of myself.” It was Benj who answered, beating his mother by a fraction of a second. “I heard you were the first Mesklinite to grasp the general idea of real science and that you were the one who did most to get the College going. What do you mean, you wish you had learned more?” Easy cut in; like Benj, she used Dondragmer’s own language. “You know far more than I do, Don, and you are in command. If you hadn’t been convinced by what Katini told you, you wouldn’t have given those orders. You’ll have to get used to that feeling you don’t like; you’ve just collided with something new again. It’s like that time fifty years ago, long before I was born, when you suddenly realized that the science we aliens were using was just knowledge carried on past the common-sense level. Now you have bumped into the fact that no one, not even a commander, can know everything, and that you sometimes have to take professional advice. Live with it, Don, and calm down!” Easy leaned back and looked at her son, who was the only one in the room to have followed her speech completely. The boy looked startled, almost awestruck. Whatever impression she had made on Dondragmer or would, when her words got to him, she had certainly gotten home to Benjamin Ibson Hoffman. It was an intoxicating sensation for a parent; she had to fight the urge to say more. She was assisted by an interruption in a human voice. “Hey! What happened to the helicopter?” All eyes went to Reffel’s screen. There was a full second of silence. Then Easy snapped, “Benj, report to Dondragmer while I call Barlennan!”

  9: CROSSED PURPOSES

  The weather had long since cleared at the Settlement, the ammonia fog had blown into the unknown central regions of Low Alpha and the wind had dropped to a gentle breeze from the northwest. Stars twinkled violently, catching the attention of occasional Mesklinites who were outside or in the corridors but going unnoticed by those in the better lighted rooms under the transparent roof. Because Barlennan was in the laboratory area at the west side of the Settlement when Easy called, her message did not reach him at once. It arrived in written form, borne by one of Guzmeen’s messengers who, in accordance with standing orders, paid no attention to the fact that Barlennan was in conference. He thrust the note in front of his commander, who broke off his own words in mid-sentence to read it. Bendivence and Deeslenver, the scientists with whom he was sp
eaking, waited in silence for him to finish, though their body attitudes betrayed curiosity. Barlennan read the message twice, seemed to be trying to recall something, and then turned to the messenger. “All this just came in, I take it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And how long has it been since the preceding report from Dondragmer?”

  “Not long, sir, less than an hour, I’d say. The log would show; shall I check?”

  “It’s not that urgent, as long as you know. The last I heard was that the Kwembly had grounded after drifting down a river for a couple of hours and that was a long time ago. I assumed that everything was all right, since Guz didn’t pass any more on to me about it. I assume now that he either heard interim reports at the usual intervals or asked the humans about it?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I haven’t been on duty the whole time. Shall I check?”

  “No. I’ll be there in a little while myself. Tell Guz not to send anything out after me; just hold any calls.” The runner vanished, and Barlennan turned back to the scientists. “Sometimes I wonder whether we shouldn’t have more electrical communication in this place. I’d like to know how long it’s taken Don to get into this mess, but I want to learn some other things before I walk all the way to Guzmeen’s place.” Bendivence gestured the equivalent of a shrug. “We can do it if you say the word. There are telephones here in the lab which work fairly well and we can wire the whole Settlement if you want the metal used that way.”

  “I don’t yet. We’ll keep to the original priorities. Here, read this. The Kwembly has gotten herself stuck in frozen water or something and both her helicopters have disappeared. One had a communicator to the human beings aboard and it was in use at the time.” Deeslenver indicated his emotion by a soft buzz, and reached for the message in turn. Bendivence passed it over silently. The former read it silently, twice, as Barlennan had done, before he spoke. “You’d think the humans would have a little more information if they were watching at all carefully. All this says is that Kervenser failed to come back from a flight and that a flier searching for him with a communicator on board suddenly stopped sending; the screen just went blank all of a sudden.”

  “I can see one possible reason for that,” remarked Bendivence. “I thought you would,” returned the commander. “The question is not what blanked the screen but why it should have happened there and then. We can assume that Reffel used the shutter on his set. It would have been nice if you’d thought of that trick before the Esket went out; it would have simplified that operation a lot. Something must have come into his field of view which wouldn’t c have fit in with the Esket story. But what could it have been? The Kuxmbly is five or six million cables from the Esket. I suppose one of the dirigibles could be down that way, but why should it be?”

  “We won’t know until another flight gets back from Destigmet’s place,” replied the scientist practically. “What interests me is why we didn’t hear about Kervenser’s disappearance earlier. Why was there time for Reffel’s mission to be flown and for him to disappear too before we were told about it? Was Dondragmer late in reporting to the human observers?”

  “I doubt that very much,” replied Barlennan. “Actually, they may have told us about Kervenser when it happened. Remember, the runner said that other messages had been coming in. Guzmeen might not have thought the disappearance worth sending a runner for until Kerv had been gone for a while. We can check up on that in a few minutes but I imagine there’s nothing funny this time. “On the other hand, I have been wondering lately whether the people up there have always been relaying information completely and promptly. Once or twice I’ve had the impression that, well, things were being saved up and sent in one package. It may be just sloppiness, or it may not really be happening-”

  “Or they may be deliberately organizing what we hear,” said Bendivence.?Half our crew could be lost at this point without our knowing it, if the human beings chose to play it that way. I can see their being afraid we?d quit the job and demand to be taken home, according to contract, if risks proved too high.? “I suppose that’s possible,” admitted Barlennan. “It hadn’t occurred to me just that way. I don’t think that particular notion is very likely, but the more I consider the situation, the more I’d like to think of a way of checking things; at least, to make sure they’re not taking time to hold conferences on just how much to tell us every time something does go wrong with an exploring cruiser.”

  “Do you really think there’s much likelihood of that?” asked Deeslenver. “It’s hard to tell. Certainly we’ve been a bit less than completely frank with them and we have what we consider some very good reasons for it. I’m not really bothered either way. We know some of these people are good at business, and if we can’t keep even with them it’s our fault. All I really would like to be sure of is whether it’s business or carelessness. I can think of one way to check up, but I’d rather not use it yet. If anyone can suggest an alternative, it will be very welcome.”

  “What’s the one you have?” both scientists asked together, Deeslenver perhaps half a syllable ahead. “The Erket, of course. It’s the only place where we can get an independent check on what they tell us. At least, I haven’t thought of any other so far. Of course, even that would take a long time; there won’t be another flight from there until sunrise and that’s twelve hundred hours or so away. Of course, we could send the Deedee even at nighc-”

  “If we’d set up that light relay I suggesced-” began Deeslenver. “Too risky. It would have much too big a chance of being seen. We just don’t know how good the human instruments are. I know most of them stay way up at that station overhead, but I don’t know what they can see from it. The casual way they distribute these picture-senders for us to carry around here on this planet suggests that they don’t regard them as very fancy equipment, as does the fact that they used them twelve years ago on Mesklin. There’s just too much chance that they’d spot any light on the night side of this planet. That’s why I overrode your idea, Dee; otherwise, I admit it was a very good one.”

  “Well, there’s nothing like enough metal yet for electrical contact that far,” added Bendivence. “I don’t have any other ideas at the moment. Come to think of it, you might make a simple test on how well the humans can pick up lights.”

  “How?” the question came in body attitudes, not verbally. “We could ask them innocendy if there were any way of their hunting for the running lights or the floods of the missing fliers.” Barlennan pondered the suggestion briefly. “Good. Excellent. Let’s go. However, if they say they can’t, we won’t be sure that they aren?t just keeping it from us. You might be thinking of a further check for that.? He led the way out of the map room where the discussion had been held, along the corridors of the Settlement toward the communication room. Most of the passageways were relatively dark. The sponsors of the expedition had not stinted on the supply of artificial lights but Barlennan himself had been rather close-nippered with their distribution. Rooms were adequately lit; hallways had a bare minimum of illumination. This gave the Mesklinites the comforting feeling that there was nothing overhead, by letting them see the stars without too much trouble. No native of that planet was really happy to face the fact that there was anything in a position to fall on him. Even the scientists glanced up occasionally as they went, taking comfort from the sight of stars not even their own. Mesklin’s sun, which men called 61 Cygni, was below the horizon at the moment. Barlennan looked upward more than he looked ahead; he was trying to get a glimpse of the human station. This carried a beacon light visible from Dhrawn, bright as a fourth-magnitude star. Its barely visible crawl against the celestial background was the best long-term clock the Mesklinites had. They used it to reset the pendulum-type instruments which they had made, which seldom agreed with each other for more than a few score hours at a time. Stars and station alike faded from view as the trio entered the brightly lighted communication room. Guzmeen saw Barlennan and instantly reported, “No further news of eit
her flier.”