The COMPLEAT Collected SFF Works, page 737
Traltha was a heavy planet pulling two-plus Earth Gs which meant that, except when sleeping or resting flat, they were required to wear gravity-nullifier harnesses at all times. O'Mara could have stood upright and moved about without one, but the others did not have his experience on space construction sites and could have fallen over and broken something and he would, after all, merely have been showing off.
The first time Joan appeared wearing hers she remarked that the antigravity harness could easily have doubled as a medieval Earth chastity belt.
On the atmosphere flights to justly famous Dunelton Gorge and the beautiful Bay of Trammith, and during the two-day stopovers for sightseeing, they traveled, talked, seriously and otherwise, and had all their meals together, but O'Mara had the feeling that a little distance was beginning to grow between them. By then he had learned how to swim well enough to try doing it from the gently sloping golden beach that fringed the bay, accompanied, naturally, by his shapely lifeguard. But their tour guide forbade all swimming, pointing out that Trammith was a nature preserve sparsely populated by a rare and protected species of sea predators who didn't care what or who they ate, so there was no close physical contact with her either in or out of the water.
Had she simply given up on him, he wondered, because he had refused to take the many chances she had given him and was backing off while she still had some pride left? Or, now that he no longer wore uniform and was beginning to show more interest in her, was she trying to encourage him further by playing hard to get?
Only a nasty, devious-minded psychologist, he told himself, would have a thought like that.
He couldn't believe that someone with his unfriendly personality could get into a situation like this. As soon as they returned to Naorthant spaceport he could simply detach himself from it by going to the Monitor office and boarding the next available ship going somewhere, anywhere, else. But that would be a stupid as well as a cowardly thing to do because, he was beginning to realize, he had been having a very enjoyable if recently a frustrating time on Kreskhallar. So whatever way the situation developed, he told himself firmly, it wouldn't be all bad.
Early on the first night out they were on the recreation deck looking out at the stars and blue-green, mottled image of Traltha shrinking astern while they argued about the Arthurian legend of ancient Earth.
"... This is another one of your legends that I've never understood," Kledenth was saying. "You had an aging, wise, and enlightened king who, because of the pressures of maintaining order in its country, neglected the physical and emotional needs of its much younger life-mate and queen, who in turn became so emotionally involved with its younger and physically more attractive bodyguard that it ignored the promises of fidelity it had already made and ultimately an unlawful mating for pleasure took place. As a result the once stable and prospering kingdom disintegrated and everybody died, or lived unhappily ever after. I read the story and watched some of the dramatizations, but I still can't understand why the king allowed it to happen. Was it as wise as you say, unable to communicate its emotions, blind, or just plain stupid? I think it's a bad story that doesn't deserve to be told."
"The point is," said Joan, "that it's a bad, sad story that could have been good. I don't mind if the characters have to suffer provided there is a happy ending. But if people could read the signals correctly, there would be a happy ending without anyone having to suffer."
She looked at O'Mara and quickly looked away again.
"If it had happened on Kelgia," said Kledenth, "both the queen's and the bodyguard's fur would have warned the king of what was happening right from the beginning. It could have paid more attention to its young life-mate or got rid of the bodyguard, nonviolently since it liked them both. And speaking of emotional signals, O'Mara, are you still misreading or just ignoring yours?"
"My favorite character in that story is Merlin," said O'Mara, trying to move the conversation onto safer ground, "the magician who went through time in reverse and met the elderly king long before meeting Arthur as a boy. Merlin has never been given the attention he deserves, and even though time travel in either direction is impossible ..."
"There speaks the typical hardheaded technocrat," Joan said softly. "Is there no room in your mind for magic?"
"As a child I had plenty of room there for magic," said O'Mara, "but only while reading or, as now, talking about the story. Centuries ago it was the technocrats who formed groups and came together as you people are doing now, but they did it to discuss and write and dream about the effects of future advances in science. Now it has all happened. We have star travel, frequent contact and commerce with other-species sapients, antigravity, advanced medicine, everything, and so there is very little room left to us for scientific dreaming. Yet on every civilized planet there are individuals or groups who spend their spare time thinking about, writing about, or discussing the magic and legends of their pasts. Magic is all we have left."
There was a moment of silence that was broken by Joan. "So you are a closet fantasy fan," she said. "O'Mara, you're a strange and very interesting man, as well as being a waste of a valuable natural resource, with muscles."
Kledenth rippled its fur and said, "O'Mara, normally I would tell you exactly what I think and feel about this situation, and you. But I have been studying a tourist book about polite and non-offensive conversational usage and wish to practice it before we visit Earth. I think your insensitive behavior toward this female makes me conclude that you are mentally disadvantaged, visually impaired, and that your parents were unmarried."
Before O'Mara could think of a suitably polite response he felt the instant of vertigo that marked their insertion into hyper-space followed by a momentary unsteadiness in the deck underfoot The artificial gravity system, he guessed, had made a less than smooth transition during the changeover from compensating for the five-G thrust of the main engines to the weightlessness of hyperspace. Right now the officer responsible would be having harsh words said to him, her, or it by the captain. Even minor fluctuations in the artificial G could cause nausea in some life-forms and space sickness on a modern interstellar passenger vessel was just not supposed to happen. Apparently the others hadn't noticed anything.
"Well, there's nothing more to see here," said Joan. She tried to encircle his upper arm gently with her long, delicate fingers and pull him away from the viewing panel. "Let's go for another swimming lesson. I haven't shown you everything yet."
Chapter Twenty
THEIR SINGLE Tralthan passenger had completed its round-trip tour and left the ship on its home world, where two others, who as honeymooners were no longer single in either sense of the word, had come aboard. As yet they had shown no interest in other-species legends or in anything but each other apart from galloping ponderously up and down the sloping ramp on one side of the pool.
"Theoretically," said O'Mara, "it is possible for two Earth-humans and a pair of overenthusiastic Tralthans to swim together, but ..."
"We'd be mad in the head to try it," Joan finished for him. Laughing, she added, "Am I right in thinking that you dislike the water, Kledenth?"
"You're wrong," said the Kelgian, ruffling its fur. "I intensely hate, detest, and abhor the water. Let's move over to the lounger beside the direct-vision panel. There's nothing to see, but at least we'll be out of range of the liquid fallout."
They picked their way between the multi-species exercising and gaming equipment that filled the remainder of the recreation deck area. Apart from the swimmers, two Nidians playing something fast and complicated that involved knocking two tiny white balls between them, and a Melfan who was lying reading on something that resembled a surrealistic wastepaper basket, they had the place to themselves. Kledenth curled itself into a thick, furry S on a nearby mattress while Joan and O'Mara stretched out on loungers.
With nothing but grey hyperspace showing beyond the big direct-vision panel, they lay watching the two Tralthans charging in and out of the pool and slapping at the water with their total of eight tentacles while making untranslatable noises to each other that sounded like hysterical foghorns. Every few seconds they were hidden by clouds of self-created spray.
"Extroverts," said Kledenth.
Joan laughed suddenly and said, "Now, there is a life-form that really enjoys swimming."
"Not so," said O'Mara, watching them and trying not to allow the concern he was feeling from reaching his voice. "They love playing in water and they're safe so long as their breathing orifices aren't below the surface for more than a few minutes. But their body density is too great for them to be able to stay afloat even with the aid of maximum muscular effort. Those two are being very foolish."
"Lieutenant O'Mara," she said, wriggling her slender body into a more comfortable position on the lounger in a way that immediately upped his blood pressure, "I bow to your superior knowledge of non-swimming Tralthans. But they can't go on not swimming and expending energy at that rate for much longer, and then it will be our turn to make fools of ourselves. What the hell!"
Slowly their loungers were tipping sideways as if trying to roll their bodies onto the deck, which had developed a gentle slope in the same direction. Water spilled over the nearest edge of the pool and rolled in a six-inch tidal wave toward them, breaking against the deck supports of intervening equipment as it came. Suddenly the deck tilted in the opposite direction, and the miniature tidal wave gurgled to a stop and began flowing back into the pool as the deck and their loungers became level again. The Tralthans were still creating so much turbulence that they apparently hadn't noticed anything.
Again O'Mara felt the instant of vertigo characteristic of reemergence into normal space. He didn't have to look at the direct-vision panel to know that it was again showing the stars and that, even though they had been traveling for only a short time in the hyperdimension, the Traltha system had been left far astern. A few seconds later the lounger padding pushed him gently into the air as they went weightless.
This was not a normal occurrence, he knew, particularly on a passenger vessel. Plainly Kreskhallarvias having problems, perhaps serious ones. Joan was looking frightened and Kledenth's fur was agitated.
"There's nothing to worry about," he said, knowing that he was lying reassuringly to one Earth-person even though there was a Kelgian present who would accept it as the truth. "Is this your first experience of weightlessness? It looks as if the artificial gravity is on the blink, so just hold on to something solid until ..."
He broke off as the ship's public-address system cleared its throat.
"This is your captain," it said. "Please remain calm. A minor malfunction has occurred in our artificial gravity system. There is no danger to the ship and the period of weightlessness is a temporary inconvenience for which I can only apologize. Will all passengers currently occupying their cabins please remain in them until further notice. Those in other parts of the ship, particularly if they are in large, open areas such as the recreation deck, must return to their cabins as soon as possible. Anyone who lacks experience in weightless or low-G maneuvering should request assistance from a crew member, or from a fellow passenger with the necessary ability to assist you to your quarters ..."
He was aware of sideways motion, so gentle and gradual that he wasn't surprised that the others hadn't noticed it.
"As you will already have seen if you are close to a direct-vision port," the captain continued, "we have returned to normal space, where we are able to apply lateral spin to the ship so that centrifugal force in the cabin areas inboard of the outer hull will replace the artificial gravity for the time necessary to repair the ..."
"You may take me to my cabin, Lieutenant O'Mara," Joan broke in, holding onto her lounger with one hand and grabbing O'Mara's wrist with the other. "The captain just made that an order."
"No!" said O'Mara loudly, pulling his arm away and looking all around the big room for the nearest communicator. He spotted it about twenty meters away on the far side of the direct-vision panel. It had been years since he'd worked in gravity-free conditions, he thought as he grasped the sides of the lounger, drew his knees up until his feet were between his hands and prepared to make a weightless jump, but it was an ability that one never forgot.
"Dammit," said Joan, her face red with anger and embarrassment, "you didn't have to be so bloody definite about it!"
"I was talking to that stupid captain, not you," O'Mara said angrily. He launched himself carefully in the direction of the communicator and continued speaking quickly as he moved. "Listen to me, carefully. You and Kledenth get out of here. Push off from the loungers, gently, and aim where you need to go or you'll spin and lose orientation. Or do it in stages by pulling yourselves along or pushing against intervening fixed equipment to the nearest side wall and then around to the entrance. On no account take a shortcut across the deck or ceiling or go anywhere near the pool. Tell that Nidian and the two Melfans to do the same, and the Tralthans if you can make them hear you. Water is dangerous stuff in the weightless condition because it falls apart into ... Just listen while I'm on the communicator, I don't have time to explain twice."
He landed neatly on his hands and knees beside the unit, steadied himself, and jabbed the attention button. The screen lit with the image of the ship's crest and a cool, translated voice said that the call would be dealt with as soon as possible and to please wait. He looked around quickly.
Joan was relaying his instructions to the other passengers while trying to help Kledenth, but the public-address system and the Tralthans were making so much noise that her voice lacked the necessary volume and authority to get results. So far as he could see, nobody had moved from their original positions. He jabbed the button again.
The captain was saying, "... We will increase our spin until the centrifugal force inboard of the outer hull matches the gravity pull of one standard Earth G although, until the artificial gravity system is returned, the outer cabin wall will be the floor. Once again we apologize for this temporary inconvenience. That is all."
O'Mara swore again and this time he kept his thumb on the button. Behind him he could see the water slowly rising above the sides of the pool and, its edges still held by the cohesion of surface tension, begin to roll down on them like a vast gob of clear syrup. Suddenly bulges and ripples caused by movements of the Tralthans appeared all over the slow-moving, transparent mass. Great, uneven lumps grew out of the surface like fat, shapeless arms that broke free and moved like monstrous, slow-moving amoebas toward the inner hull. The Tralthan noise was beginning to sound frightened, the flailing of their tentacles agitated rather than playful.
He noticed the other button then, the yellow one with the transparent cover and the warning sign, and swore again. This time it was at his own stupidity for not remembering that, on the older Melfan-built civilian vessels, yellow was the color denoting urgency rather than red. He flipped up the cover so hard that it came away in his hand and stabbed at the button as if it was a mortal enemy.
A bony, Melfan head appeared. The eyes stared at him for an instant; then an impatient, translated voice said, "Passengers are not allowed to use this channel unless there is ..."
"An emergency, I know," he broke in. "O'Mara, Monitor Corps, on the recreation deck. Please connect me with your captain. I must speak to him, her, or it at once. Meanwhile, cancel the order to spin the ship. Do that now."
"Sir, you have no operational authority on this civilian vessel," the other replied angrily. "And the captain is busy right now."
"Then I'll talk to one of the responsible ship's officers," said O'Mara. "Presumably that means you?"
The exoskeletal features were incapable of changing color or registering emotion, but he could hear the Melfan's pincers opening and closing with a sound like castanets. He moved to the side of the screen to give the other a clearer view of what was happening in the room, then continued speaking.
"The weightlessness and now the increasing spin are combining to empty the swimming pool," he said, forcing himself to speak slowly and clearly. "Unless the spin, and the buildup of centrifugal force, is checked right now, within a few minutes, at the present rate of descent, many tons of water will fall against the inner hull. The hull structure will take it, but can the seals of the direct-vision panel?"
"The seals can take it," said the Melfan, and added, "Well, probably."
"With the falling water," O'Mara went on, "will be the weight of two adult Tralthan swimmers. Can they take that, too?"
"Negative," said the officer, swiveling its head to look offscreen. "Captain! Emergency Blue Three. Risk of imminent hull breach on the rec deck. I'm putting the image on your repeater screen. Kill the spin and return to weightless conditions, now!"
"No," said O'Mara sharply. "We need a little weight here, no more than one-eighth G, to allow the water to stabilize so we can rescue the swimmers and non-aquatics. Weightless it will be scattered in liquid lumps all over the place with no stable surface to swim to. In those conditions people can panic and drown."
He stopped as the Melfan's face was replaced by the hairy, Orligian features of the captain.
"Understood, Lieutenant," it growled through its translator. "No more than one-eighth G. You've got it I'm sending the ship's medic, Dr. Sennelt, to you. It's all I can spare right now. Keep this vision channel open so we can see what's happening ..."
Before the other had finished speaking, O'Mara had launched himself toward the tangled bodies of Joan and Kledenth.
