Complete Short Fiction, page 13
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 caught 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?”
“I thought it might be a useful item of knowledge,” replied Little. “I succeeded in smuggling up my three remaining cylinders of geletane, disguised as part of the stove. I don’t suppose there’s enough to put the whole garrison out—but still, it would be nice to know their ventilating system.”
“Good job, doctor. After we eat we’ll find out what else, if anything, the boys succeeded in bringing up, and more or less take inventory. Then perhaps we can arrange some plan for getting out of here. I wish we knew what has become of the Gomeisa; I don’t suppose we could manage the controls on that ship outside.” Magill made this remark with such perfect seriousness that Little was forced to grin.
“You may be a little optimistic, Keys. Remember the Vegans, who are far from stupid creatures, have been here for some time and have failed to get to first base to date.”
“They are handicapped physically, Doc. They can’t live for long outside without supplementary ultraviolet sources, and they have to plan with that in mind. Furthermore, this gravity is nearly twice that of Vega Five, and they can’t move at any rate better than a crawl.”
Little was forced to admit the justice of this argument, but remained, in Magill’s opinion, pessimistic. He had developed a healthy respect for their captors, along with a slight comprehension of their motives. The trouble was, the Vegan’s description of the way the pentapods seemed to guess the purpose of a device before it was completed did not tie in very well with his theory concerning those motives. More thought was indicated. He indulged in it while Magill steered him back to the prison and dinner.
The meal was good. There was no reason why it shouldn’t be, of course, since the cook had all the usual supplies and equipment; but Little was slightly surprised to find himself enjoying dinner while in durance vile as much as if he were on his own ship. It didn’t seem natural. They ate in the hallway, squatted in a circle in front of the kitchen door. The Vegans, whose quarters were directly opposite, watched from their doorways. They also commented from time to time, but were very seldom answered, since both hands are required to speak Vegan. They would probably have felt slighted if one of them—not the one who had acted as interpreter—had not understood some English. He got about two words in every five, and succeeded in keeping his race in the conversation.
The meal concluded, the meeting of the ways and means committee, which consisted of all human beings and Vegans in the neighborhood, was immediately called to order. The presence of nonmembers, though resented, was perforce permitted, and discussion began under the watchful eyes of eight or ten pentapods. Little, rather than Magill, presided.
“The first thing we need to know,” he said, “is everything possible about our five-sided friends. The Vegans have been with them longer, and probably know more than we; but owing to the relative slowness of their speech, we will save their contribution until last. You who understand English may translate the substance of our discussion to your fellows if you wish, but we will hold a second meeting afterward and go over everything in your own language. First, then, will anyone who succeeded in smuggling any weapons or probable-contraband tools up here please report? Keep your hands in your pockets and your eyes on me while you do so; there is a high order of probability that our friends are very good at interpreting gestures—even human gestures.”
A man directly across the circle from Little raised a hand. The doctor nodded to him.
“When we were loading food, before we made that break, I dropped my testing kit into my pack first of all. I didn’t try to cover it up and I concentrated on boxed articles of food afterward to make it look natural.” The speaker was one of Goldthwaite’s assistants, a tall fellow with the insignia of a technician’s mate. Little knew him fairly well. He had been born on Earth but showed plainly a background of several generations on the colony-planet Regulus Six—big bones, dark skin, quick reactions. “Good work, Dennis. What is in the kit?”
“Pliers, volt-ammeter, about sixty feet of assorted sizes of silver wire, two-thousand-line grating, midget atomic wire-welder, six plano-convex lenses of various focal lengths, support rod and two mirrors to go with them, and a small stroboscope.”
“Item, one portable laboratory,” remarked Little. “Congratulations. Leo, I suppose you have outdone your brother?”
Leo Dennis, the twin brother of the first speaker, shook his head. “Just an old-fashioned manual razor. I’ll start accepting offers tomorrow.” Little smiled and fingered his chin.
“You’re too late, unless someone brought scissors to start with. Safety razors weren’t built to cope with a ten-day growth, more or less. Never mind, we may find a use for it—it’s a cutting tool, anyway. Next?”
There was a pause, with everybody looking expectantly at his neighbor. Evidently the total had been reached. Little spoke again. “Did anybody try to smuggle something and fail?”
“I tried to salvage Goldy’s liquor, and had it taken from me,” answered another man. “I guess they’re firmly convinced it’s lethal. I wish them luck in analyzing the stuff—we never could.”
“How far did you get before they took it from you?”
“They let me pick up the bottles that were lying around, and put them in the case; half a dozen of them watched me while I did that. But when I started to carry the case toward the gate—of course, that was some job, as Goldy found out—they all walked up and just took it away. They didn’t get violent or anything like that.”
“Then it wasn’t really a case of detected smuggling; you made no effort to mask your real intentions. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. I don’t quite see how anyone could hide either that case or the bottles; I was just sort of hoping against hope.”
Little nodded and called for more contributions. A gunner responded.
“I found a couple of cases of grenades and stuck several into my pockets. The next thing I knew, one of the starfish was holding my arms, and another taking them out again. He handled them as though he knew what they were.”
“I suppose you checked the safeties before you pocketed the bombs?”
“Of course, sir,” Little nodded wearily. “Of course. And that was enough for our admittedly astute friends. I admit it’s usually a very good idea to obey regulations, but there are exceptions to every rule. I think the present circumstances constitute an exception to most of them. Any others?”
Apparently no one else had seen anything he coveted sufficiently to attempt to sneak out of the piles. The doctor didn’t care particularly; he believed he had enough data from that source, and an idea was rapidly growing. Unfortunately, the primary principle of that idea required him to learn even more, though not about his captors. Possibly the Vegans could supply the information, but Little was not prepared to bet on it.
Magill closed the discussion by mentioning the anesthetic which Little had made available, and requesting an early communication of all ideas. The men withdrew into smaller groups, talking in low tones among themselves, and gradually drifted through the doors to their rooms, or out onto the roof. Magill followed to take a small group down again for the sleeping bags.
Little remained with the Vegans. He had a good deal to ask them, and material which could be covered in an hour of verbal conversation would probably take three or four hours of arm-waving. He sat just outside the fan of intense light from one of the doorways, and the creatures formed a semicircle just inside—the door was wide enough for the four of them, since it had been constructed to admit the pentapods. The doctor opened the conversation.
“How long have you been here?” was his first question. It was answered by the individual who had acted as interpreter.
“Since our arrival there have passed about two hundred of the days of this planet. We are not sure just how long they are, but we believe they are about thirty of your hours. We have no idea of the length of time that elapsed between our capture and our arrival at this place, however. We were driving a small private ship on a sightseeing trip to a world which had recently been reported near the galactic center by one of our official exploring vessels, and were near its reported position when we were taken. They simply engulfed us—moved up and dragged our ship into a cargo lock with magnets. We were on their ship a long time before they put us off here and left again, and we were not allowed to obtain any of our belongings except food and ultraviolet lamps until we arrived; so we don’t know how long the trip lasted. One of us”—the Vegan indicated the individual—“got up courage enough to venture onto the roof one night and saw what he thinks was the Galaxy; so we believe this world lies in the Cloud. You will be able to tell better for yourselves—you can stand the dark longer than we, and your eyes are better at locating faint details.”
“You may be right. We were heading toward the Cloud when we were taken,” answered Little. “How freely have you been permitted to move about this fort?”
“We may go almost anywhere above ground level,” was the answer. “Some of these watchers”—a supple antenna gestured toward the ever-present guards—“are always with us, and they prevent us from taking the elevators any lower. Then there are a few rooms on the upper levels which are always sealed, and two or three which are open but whose thresholds we are not permitted to cross.”
“How do they prevent your entering?”
“They simply get in front of us, and push us back if we persist. They have never used violence on us. They never need to; we are in no position to dispute their wishes. There is no comparison between them and us physically, and we are very much out of our natural environment.”
“Have you been able to deduce the nature or purpose of the rooms from which you are barred?”
“We assume that they are control rooms, communication offices, or chart rooms. One of them contains several devices which look like ordinary television screens. Whether they are for long-range use or are merely part of a local system, of course we cannot tell.” Little pondered for several moments before speaking again.
“You mentioned constructing several devices to aid in escape, only to have them taken away from you just before they were completed. Could you give me more details on just what happened? What were you doing, and at what stage were you interrupted? How did you expect to get away from the planet?”
“We did not expect to get away. We just wanted to make them go, so we could take over the fort. When we disconnected their tube lights to put in our own, he”—indicating the creature beside him—“managed to retain a sample of the tube. On its walls were absorbed layers of several gases, but neon was the chief component. We had smuggled in the neutrino converters and stabilizers from our ship”—and Keys said these fellows were helpless, thought Little—“and it occurred to us that we might set up a neon-oxygen reaction which would flood the place with ultraviolet. We had already noticed that they could not stand it any better than you. The half life of the process would have been of the order of twelve hours, which should have driven them out for a period of time ample for our purpose. A neutrino jet of very moderate power, correctly tuned, could easily have catalyzed such a reaction in every light tube in the place. We had built the projector, disguising it as another ultraviolet lamp, and were connecting the converter when about fifty of the guards dived in, took the whole thing away, and ran out before the lamps we already had going could hurt them.”
