Authors: Dave Duncan
The window on that side showed another chimney about two meters away, half hidden in driving rain. He could hear nothing except the noise of the storm, although that seemed to be slackening. If the centaurs had any sense, they were staying indoors. The corridor, like
Niagara
’s, was divided by airtight doors. The first one aft was warped and immovable, but there was probably nothing left beyond it anyway. If he couldn’t get out, centaurs could not get in.
Forward the corridor brought him to the starboard exit door. He decided not to try it, because if he couldn’t open it, he probably couldn’t get out at all. He would cross that bridge when he got to it.
Now the passage ended at a door that he guessed would lead to the prospectors’ quarters. Normally only Control could open bulkhead doors, but with the power off all he need do was tug on the emergency lever. Inside, he found no bodies, just a dormitory for two, a toilet, and the door to the cab. The heat was terrible, the air stale and nasty. Rummaging in cupboards, he found the most welcome sight of his life, a crate of water bottles. He gulped a quarter of a bottle without drawing breath.
His search found no bodies and ended in the cab itself. In the absence of power, the view screens had all reverted to windows, and he was able to look out at the chimney colony. There were still no centaurs in sight, but visibility was restricted by rain. Aft, past where the shuttle’s wing had been, he could glimpse a spread of flat sand, broad enough for
Niagara
to land on, and that was a very welcome sight.
Armed with a second water bottle, he settled into the master’s chair. The glass should not block transmission as the metal hull had.
“Prospector to
Golden Hind
.”
At least three voices yelled, “Seth!” simultaneously. The ship must be passing almost directly overhead, for he detected no delay.
“Meredith and I are both alive, in the forward end of the shuttle, jammed in the chimney forest.”
Jordan: “Yes, we can see it. The other half didn’t go far, but if you’d been a hundred meters farther north, you’d have gone straight past and out to sea.”
“Must be the gods’ reward for virtuous living. How’s the weather look?” He was resigned to hearing that another week ought to do it.
“It looks good for about four hours from now, but our orbit isn’t properly lined up. We can jump if it’s urgent, but there’s a big tropical high due in about eight hours. That should give you some relatively calm weather. And you must need some sleep.”
He’d believe in calm on this violent planet when he saw it. “Is my plog uploading?”
“Control says it’s all done.”
“Good. There is a problem. Meredith is unconscious. I haven’t tried to waken her, but I think she’s in coma. It’s probably a reaction to the stim shot, on top of narcosis, dehydration, and a diet of raw fish. Emotional trauma too, I expect. Dare I give her another stim shot before the shuttle lands? I can’t carry her in this gravity.”
Pause for murmured consultation…
“Seth? Jordan again. Control and Reese both say no, don’t risk it. We’ll try to concoct something safer for her and send it down with the shuttle. How close can it land?”
“The closer the better as far as I’m concerned. It seems flat enough behind the cab, but it’s raining too hard to be sure. Don’t argue with the chimneys, they’re natural formations, solid rock.”
“We won’t.”
“Come down on sand if you can. Both of us will need depressurizing, especially Meredith, and we should both be quarantined, because I had to break asepsis.”
“We’re working on that assumption.”
Seth drew a deep breath. “I want to go on record as agreeing with Meredith Tsukuba’s opinion that the centaurs are sentient.” He heard JC utter his favorite oath in the background. “They were bringing offerings of fish to her. They carry weapons and gourds. They don’t harm us as long as we aren’t wearing clothes. They have complex calls that seem to be language.”
He had wanted fortune and must settle for fame.
“Control has analyzed your earlier plog,” Jordan’s voice said, “and agrees with you on the language.”
“They don’t build the chimneys, but they nest in them, so they’re around here somewhere. Toss some clothes into the shuttle for both of us, please. We’ll have to strip naked to get to it.”
“Your plog ought to be Top of the Pops.”
“Only if it has a happy ending. I must sign off now and get some rest. I haven’t slept in years.”
He checked on Meredith. She was still asleep, her pulse worrisomely faint. He went back to the prospectors’ dormitory and, with a huge sigh of relief, sank down on the lower bunk, which was probably hers. He was asleep before his eyes closed.
Day 414
001.102 potential carrier means a person who has been exposed to an exoplanetary atmosphere, or has in any way whatsoever come into contact with alien life forms, whether visible or microscopic, known or suspected, or who has had any opportunity whatsoever of having been contaminated, directly or indirectly, by alien life forms, known or suspected.
029.07 Potential Carriers shall be quarantined in an approved facility for the greatest of:
[a] Forty days after the possible exposure or contamination,
[b] Forty days after all signs of infection or disease have disappeared,
[c] As long as the responsible medical authority may order.
General Regulations
InterStellar Licensing Authority
2375 edition
Seth was wakened by nothing more deadly or exotic than a full bladder. Nothing less would have done so. For a few moments he was lost and bewildered, wondering where he was, why he ached all over, why he was so hungry. He heaved himself out of bed and went to the toilet.
He checked on Meredith, who was still breathing, but unresponsive. Without prompt medical aid she might never waken. He went back to the cabin and studied the view for a moment. The sun was low, the sky pale blue and cloudless. On both sides and straight ahead the windows looked out on a forest of chimneys, as tall as three-story houses, but rough, irregular, mostly lopsided. At close quarters they were obviously natural, not at all artificial. Looking aft through the starboard ports, he could just make out a featureless plain of rounded boulders and cobbles. The ferny groundcover was barely moving. There was a dry sandy patch not far off.
“Prospector to
Golden Hind.
”
After a brief delay for relaying, Hanna’s voice answered. “We read you, Seth.”
“What news?”
“
Niagara
’s on its way. Your pizza will be delivered in about an hour.”
“I won’t say no to that. Weather couldn’t be better. About a hundred meters west looks dead flat. I’d better go out and take a look. I’ll call… Can you see what I see?”
Centaurs were emerging from the chimneys, scrambling down the sides backwards. Those claws had more uses than just catching fish. There were dozens of the critters—scores, more than a hundred. He couldn’t hear through the glass, but he could tell by their movements that they were excited and jabbering. It seemed odd that they had not noticed the remains of
Mercury
on their doorstep before now. Then he realized that they were gathering under his window to stare up at him. It was not the shuttle that had excited them, it was its occupant. Mothers were pointing him out to their babies.
“They’re so
cute
!” Hanna said. “They look like little medieval war horses caparisoned for jousting.”
Horses did not have pointed teeth like these critters. On impulse, Seth waved. Instantly fifty or sixty flippers waved back at him, each little “arm” flapping a black-and-white flag. He waved both hands. They copied him again, and he had a strange feeling that they were laughing.
Monkey see, monkey do.
“I’m going out to inspect the landing site,” he said. “I daren’t take my com or my video with me. Prospector out.” He cut off Hanna’s squawk of alarm.
He had no shoes. Back in the prospectors’ dormitory he found a heap of clothes on the topmost bunk. A glance at the shirt showed that they had belonged to the late Dylan Guinizelli, whom Meredith had called a big man. Big, as in huge. Here Dylan had stripped down to put on his EVA suit, but he had been treated in the infirmary and never returned for them. Seth could see no footwear, but the dead prospector’s shoes would not have fitted him anyway. He had reached the exterior door before he realized that the door opened downward, to double as a ladder.
“Prospector to
Golden Hind
. Disregard previous message. Planned EVA is cancelled. The shuttle has no power, so I won’t be able to close the darned thing once I open it.” Centaurs were nimble climbers.
“Which is what I was trying to tell you, you muscle-bound bonehead!”
From Hanna, that was gutter talk. He was amused.
“If I wasn’t what you just called me, I wouldn’t be here, now would I? How long is the weather window?”
“Three hours or more. Not counting clear air turbulence, of course. You should have plenty of time.”
“Meredith’s in a coma. I’ll try to carry her, but it won’t be easy and it won’t be quick.” If the centaurs got in his way, it would probably be impossible.
“I’ll be praying for both of you, Seth.”
“Good thinking. Prospector out.”
* * *
Hoping to find something to eat other than Meredith’s raw fish, which would be putrid by now, he hunted through the prospectors’ supplies. He had no success. Anything edible would have been kept in the galley.
The centaurs were still all around the shuttle, waiting for more glimpses of the alien. Whenever he approached a window, the watchers outside would shout and wave, and others would come running. He decided it would be a good idea to let them grow accustomed to seeing him with his headband on. Maybe then they would let him leave with it. His plog was safely archived on
Golden Hind,
but he wanted to record his departure.
“
Golden Hind
to Prospector.” Hanna again.
“I copy you.”
“
Niagara
will be landing in five minutes.”
He was astonished to feel a sudden lump in his throat. Was the ordeal almost over? His great adventure, the aim of his life, the day for which he would be forever remembered? Nearly finished?
“Maybe this time I’ll accept a few prayers, then. Meredith is still in coma. Can I give her a stim shot?”
There was a moment’s pause and the next voice belonged to Reese, who doubled as medical director.
“Under normal circumstances, no medical protocol would allow it. However, if that is her only hope of survival, then you’ll have to risk it. Leave your camera in another room when you do.”
“Thanks a bundle. Prospector out.”
The shuttle must come in from the west and he had no clear view in that direction, but he could watch the centaurs outside. Damn, but they were cute! He waved, they waved. He managed a clumsy little dance. They danced. He noticed that there were always a few clambering up or down the sides of chimneys; with their middle and rear limbs spread out they looked like giant bats. Meredith had suggested that their hairless skin dried out in the sunshine and they liked to stay damp. Whatever creatures made the chimneys always grew near a river mouth or the sea.
He went back to check on Meredith and found her condition unchanged. How was he going to transport her if he couldn’t carry her? The simplest way would be to strap her on a stretcher and drag one end, trailing the other like a travois. No doubt this flying palace had included a stretcher in its medical supplies, but it would not likely have been stored in the bow section. He had not found one, and could think of no way to improvise one. He attacked one of the bunks with his bare hands, hoping he could somehow detach the frame, but he made no impression at all. The mattresses were too flexible. The nearest he found to anything useful was a metal rod from a closet. He needed two of them, each twice as long.
The waiting was getting to him. He had a headache.
He returned to the cab, where the larger windows gave the best view of the landing ground. The centaurs were all facing west, hearing something.
The dream is over. Ready to wake up and go back to waiting on tables, Master?
The centaurs stampeded, fleeing to the safety of the chimneys, which probably meant underwater. The chimneys were always wet, always seeping. So when winter brought snow instead of rain, they would drain completely and their porous walls would provide insulation, while their exteriors would be sealed by ice. Storm surges would pile sea ice around them, natural igloos with rocky cores. It was quite possible that the centaurs could hibernate inside them.
A shadow passed slowly overhead.
Niagara
blew fire on the sand, then settled in a perfect landing. Seth released his breath with a rush, not having realized that he had been holding it. He passed on the good news to the ship, although Control would be monitoring and reporting.