"A good point," Leicester said. "Ask someone to have the orders posted, Del Rey. And put a security man to make sure everybody knows where the latrines are, and uses them. No taking a leak in the woods just because you're there and there aren't any anti-littering laws:"
Camilla Del Rey said, "Suggestion, Captain. Ask the cooks to do the same with the garbage, for a while, anyhow."
"Disinfect it? Good point. Lovat, what's the status on the food synthesizers,"
"Accessible and working, sir, at least temporarily. It might not be a bad idea, though, to check indigenous food supplies and make sure we can eat the local fruits and roots if we have to. If it goes on the blink--and it was never intended to run for long periods in planetary gravities--it will be too late to start testing the local vegetation then." Judith Lovat, a small, sturdily built woman in her late thirties with the green emblem of Life-support systems on her smock, glanced toward the door of the dome. "The planet seems to be widely forested; there should be something we can eat, with the oxygen-nitrogen system of this air. Chlorophyll and photosynthesis seem to be pretty much the same on all M-type planets and the end product is usually some form of carbohydrate with amino acids:"
"I'm going to put a botanist right on it," Captain Leicester said, "which brings me to you, MacAran. Did you get any useful information from the hilltop?"
MacAran stood up. He said, "I would have gotten more if we'd landed in the plains--assuming there are any on this planet--but I did get a few things. First, we're about a thousand feet above sea level here, and definitely in the Northern hemisphere, but not too many degrees of latitude off the Equator, considering that the Sun runs high in the sky. We seem to be in the foothills of an enormous mountain range, and the mountains are old enough to be forested--that is, no active apparent volcanoes
in sight, and no mountains which look like the result of volcanic activity within the last few millennia. It's not a young planet."
"Signs of life?" Leicester asked.
"Birds in plenty. Small animals, perhaps mammals but I'm not sure. More kinds of trees than I knew how to identify. A good many of them were a kind of conifer, but there seemed to be hardwoods too, of a kind, and some bushes with various seeds and things. A botanist could tell you a lot more. No signs of any kind of artifact, however, no signs that anything has ever been cultivated or touched. As far as I can tell, the planet's untouched by human--or any other--hands. But of course we may be in the middle of the equivalent of the Siberian steppes or the Gobi desert--way, way off the beaten track."
He paused, then said, "About twenty miles due east of here, there's a prominent mountain peak--you can't miss it--from which we could take sightings, and get some rough estimate of the planet's mass, even without elaborate instruments, We might also sight for rivers, plains, water supply, or any signs of civilization."
Camilla Del Rey said, "From space there was no sign of life."
Moray, the heavy swarthy man who was the official representative of Earth Expeditionary, and is charge of the Colonists, said quietly, "Don't you mean no signs of a technological civilization, Officer? Remember, until a scant four centuries ago, a starship approaching Earth could not have seen any signs of intelligent life there, either."
Captain Leicester said curtly' "Even if there is some form of pre-technological civilization, that is equivalent to no civilization at all, and whatever form of life there may be here, sapient or not, is not of any consequences to our purpose. They could give us no help in repairing our ship, and provided we are careful not to contaminate their ecosystems, there is no reason to approach them and create culture shock."
"I agree with your last statement" Moray said slowly, "but I would like to raise one question you have not yet mentioned, Captain. permission?"
Leicester granted, "First thing I said was that we're suspending protocol for the duration-go ahead."
"What's being done to check this planet out for habitability,in the event the drives can't be repaired, and we're stuck here?"
MacAran felt a moment of shock which stopped him cold, then a small surge of relief. Someone had said it. Someone else was thinking about it. He hadn't had to be the one to bring it up.
But on Captain Leicester's face the shock had not gone away; it had frozen into a stiff cold anger. "There's very little chance of that."
Moray got heavily to his feet. "Yes. I heard what your crew was saying, but I'm not entirely convinced. I think that we should start, at once, to take inventory of what we have, and what is here, in the event that we are marooned here permanently."
"Impossible," Captain Leicester said harshly. "Are you trying to say you know more than my crew about the condition of our ship, Mr. Moray?"
"No. I don't know a damn thing about starships, don't know as I particularly want to. But I know wreckage when I see it. I know a good third of your crew is dead, including some important technicians. I heard officer Del Rey say that she thought--she only thought--that the navigational computer could be fixed, and I do know that nobody can navigate a M-AM drive in interstellar space without a computer. We've got to take it into account that this ship may not be going anywhere. And in that case, we won't be going anywhere either. Unless we've got some boy genius who can build an interstellar communications satellite in the next five years with the local raw materials and the handful of people we have here, and send a message back to Earth, or to the Alpha Centauri or Coronis colonies to come and fetch their little lost sheep."
Camilla Del Rey said in a low voice, "Just what are you trying to do, Mr. Moray? Demoralize us further? Frighten us?"
"No. I'm trying to be realistic."
Leicester said, making a noble effort to control the fury that congested his face, "I think you're out of order, Mr. Moray. Our first order of business is to repair the ship, and for that purpose it may be necessary to draft every man, including the passengers from your Colonists group. We cannot spare large groups of men for remote contingencies," he added emphatically, "so if
that was a request, consider it denied. Is there any other business?"
Moray did not sit down. "What happens then if six weeks from now we discover that you can't fix your ship? Or six months?"
Leicester drew a deep breath. MacAran could see the desperate weariness in his face and his effort not to betray it. "I suggest we cross that bridge if, and when, we see it in the distance, Mr. Moray. There is a very old proverb that says, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. I don't believe that a delay of six weeks will make all that difference in resigning ourselves to hopelessness and death. As for me, I intend to live, and to take this ship home again, and anyone who starts defeatist talk will have to reckon with me. Do I make myself clear?"
Moray was evidently not satisfied; but something, perhaps only the Captain's will, kept him quiet. He lowered himself into his seat still scowling.
Leicester pulled Camilla's lapboard toward him. "Is there anything else? Very well. I believe that will be all, ladies and gentlemen. Lists of survivors and wounded, and their condition, will be posted tonight. Yes, Father Valentine?"
"Sir, I have been requested to say a Requiem Mass for the dead at the site of the mass graves. Since the Protestant chaplain was killed in the crash, I would like to offer my services to anyone, of any faith, who can use them for anything whatsoever:"
Captain Leicester's face softened as he looked at the young priest, his arm in a sling and one side of his face heavily bandaged. He said, "Hold your service by all means, Father. I suggest dawn tomorrow. Find someone who can work on erecting a suitable memorial here; some day, maybe a few hundred years from now, this planet may be colonized, and they should know. Well have time for that, I imagine."
"Thank you, Captain Will you excuse me? I must go back to the hospital"
"Yes, Father, go ahead. Anyone who wants to get back now is excused‑‑unless there are any questions? Very well." Leicester leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes briefly. "Ma
cAran and Dr. Lovat, will you stay a minute, please?"
MacAran came forward slowly, surprised beyondwords; he had never spoken to the Captain before, and had not realized that Leicester knew him even by sight. What could he want? The others were leaving the dome, one by one; Ewen touched his shoulder briefly and whispered, "Heather and I will he at the Requiem Mass, Rafe. I've got to go. Come around to the hospital and let me check that concussion. Peace, Rafe; see you later," before he slipped away.
Captain Leicester had slumped in his chair, and he looked exhausted and old, but he straightened slightly as Judith Lovat and MacAran approached him. He said, "MacAran, your profile said you've had some mountain experience. What's your professional specialty?"
"Geology. It's true, I've spent a good deal of time in the mountains."
"Then I'm putting you in charge of a brief survey expedition. Go climb that mountain, if you can get up it, and take your sights from the peak, estimate the planet's mass, and so forth. Is there a meteorologist or weather specialist in the colonist group?"
"I suppose so, sir. Mr. Moray would know for sure!'
"He probably would, and it might be a good idea for me to make a point of asking him," Leicester said. He was so weary he was almost mumbling. "If we can estimate what the weather in the next few weeks is likely to do, we can decide how best to provide shelter and so forth for the people. Also, any information about period of rotation, and so forth, might be worth something to Earth Expeditionary. And‑‑Dr. Lovat‑‑locate a zoologist and a botanist, preferably from the colonists, and send them along with MacAran. Just in case the food synthesizers break down. They can make tests and take samples "
Judith said, "May I suggest a bacteriologist too, if there's one available?"
"Good idea. Don't let repair crews go short, but take what you need, MacAran. Anyone else you want to take along?
"A medical technician, or at least a medical nurse," MacAran requested, "in case somebody fall down a crevasse or gets chewed up by the local equivalent of Tyrannosaurus Rex."
"or picks up some ghastly local bug," Judith said. "I ought to have thought of that."
"Okay, then, if the Medic chief can spare anybody," Leicester agreed.
"One more thing. First Officer Del Rey is going with you."
"May I ask what for?" MacAran said, slightly startled. "Not that she isn't welcome, though it might be a rough trek for a lady. This isn't Earth and those mountains haven't any chairlifts!"
Camilla voice was low and slightly husky. He wondered if it was grief and shock, or whether that was her natural tone. She said, "Captain, MacAran evidently doesn't know the worst of it. How much do you know about the crash and its cause, then?"
He shrugged. "Rumors and the usual gossip. All I know is that the alarm bells began to ring, I got to a safety area‑‑so‑called," he added, bitterly, remembering Jenny's mangled body, "and the next thing I knew I was being dragged out of the cabin and hauled down a ladder. Period."
"Well, then, here it is. We don't know where we are. We don't know what Sun this is. We don't know even approximately what star cluster we're in. We were thrown off course by a gravitational storm‑‑that's the layman's term, I won't bother explaining what causes it. We lost our orientation equipment with the first shock, and we had to locate the nearest star‑system with a potentially habitable planet, and get down in a hurry. So I've got to take some astronomical sighting, if I can, and locate some known stars‑-I can do that with spectroscopic readings. From there I may be able to triangulate our position in the Galactic Arm, and do at least part of the computer re-programming from the planet's surface. It is easier to take astronomical observations at an altitude where the air is thinner. Even if I don't get to the mountain's peak, every additional thousand feet of altitude will give me a better chance for accurate readings." The girl looked serious and grave, and he sensed that she was holding fear at bay with her deliberately didactic and professional manner. "So if you can have me along on your expedition, I'm strong and fit, and I'm not afraid of a long hard march. I'd send my assistant, but he has burns over 30 per cent of his body surface and even if he recovers‑‑and it's not certain he will--he won't be going anywhere for a long, long time. There's no one else who knows as much about navigation and Galactic Geography as I do, I'm afraid, so I'd trust my own readings more than anyone else's."
MacAran shrugged. He was no male chauvinist, and if the girl thought she could handle the expedition's long marches she could probably do it. "Okay," he said, "it's up to you. We'll need rations for four days minimum, and if your equipment is heavy, you'd better arrange to have someone else carry it; everybody else will have his own scientific paraphernalia." He looked at the thin shirt clinging damply to her upper body and added, a little harshly, "Drew warmly enough, damn it; you'll get pneumonia."
She looked startled, confused, then suddenly angry; her eyes snapped at him. but MacAran had already forgotten her. He said to the Captain, "When do you want us to start? Tomorrow?"
"No, too many of us haven't had enough sleep," said Leicester, dragging himself up again from what looked like a painful doze. "Look who's talking‑‑and half my crew are in the same shape. I'm going to order everybody but half a dozen watchmen to sleep tonight. Tomorrow, except for basic work crews, we'll dismiss everyone for the memorial services for the dead; and there's a lot of inventorying to do, and salvage work. Start‑‑oh, two, three days from now. Any preference about a medical officer?"
"May I have Ewen Ross if the chief can spare him?"
"I's okay by me'" Leicester said, and sagged again, evidently for a split second asleep where he sat. MacAran said a soft, "Thank you, sir," and turned away. Camilla Del Rey laid a hand, a feather's touch, on his arm.
"Don't you dare judge him," she said is a low, furious voice, "he's been on his feet since two days before the crash on a steady diet of wakers, and he's too old for that! I'm going to see he gets 24 hours straight sleep if I have to shut down the whole camp!"
Leicester pulled himself up again. "--wasn't asleep," he said firmly. "Anything else, MacAran, Lovat?"
MacAran said a respectful, "No, sir," and slipped quietly away, leaving the Captain to his rest, his First Officer standing over him like-the image touched his mind in shock‑‑‑a fiercely maternal tiger over her cub. Or over the old lion? And why did he care anyhow?Chapter
TWO
Too much of the passenger section was either flooded with fire‑prevention foam, or oil‑slick and dangerous; for that reason, Captain Leicester had given orders that all members of the expedition to the mountain were to be issued surface uniforms, the warm, weatherproof garments meant for spaceship personnel to wear on visiting the surface of an alien planet. They had been told to be ready just after sunrise, and they were ready, shouldering their rucksacks of rations, scientific equipment, makeshift campout gear. MacAran stood waiting for Camilla Del Rey, who was giving final instructions to a crewman from the bridge.
"These times for sunrise and sunset are as exact as we can get them, and you have exact azimuth readings for the direction of sunrise. We may have to estimate noon. But every night, at sunset, shine the strongest light in the ship in this direction, and leave it on for exactly ten minutes. That way we can run a line of direction to where we're going, and establish due east and west. You already know about the noon angle readings."
She turned and saw MacAran standing behind her. She said, with composure, "Am I keeping you waiting? I'm sorry, but you must understand the necessity for accurate readings."
"I couldn't agree more," MacAran said, "and why ask me? You outrank everybody in this party, don't you, ma'am?"
She lifted her delicate eyebrows at him. "Oh, is that what's worrying you? As a matter of fact, no. Only on the bridge. Captain Leicester put you in charge of this party, and believe me, I'm quite content with that. I probably know as much about mountaineering as you do about celestial navigation‑-if as much. I grew up in the Alpha colony,
and you know what the deserts are like there."
MacAran felt considerably relieved‑-and perversely annoyed. This woman was just too damned perceptive! Oh, yes, it would minimize tensions if he didn't have to ask her as a superior officer to pass along any orders‑or suggestions--about the trip. But the fact remained that somehow she'd managed to make him feel officious, blundering and like a damn fool!
"Well," he said, "any time you're ready We've got a good long way to go, over some fairly rough ground. So let's get this show on the road:"
He moved away toward where the rest of the group stood gathered, mentally taking stock. Ewen Ross was carrying a good part of Camilla Del Rey's astronomical equipment, since, as he admitted, his medical kit was only a light weight. Heather Stuart, wrapped like the others in surface uniform, was talking to him in low tones, and MacAran thought wryly that it must be love, when your girl got up at this unholy hour to see you off. Dr. Judith Lovat, short and sturdy, had an assortment of small sample cases buckled together over her shoulder. He did not know the other two who were waiting in uniform, and before they moved off, he walked around to face them.
"We've seen each other in the recreation rooms, but I don't think I know you. You are‑‑"
The first man, a tall, hawk‑nosed, swarthy man in his middle thirties, said, "Marco Zabal, Xenobotanist. I'm coming at Dr. Lovat's request. I'm used to mountains. I grew up in the Basque country, and I've been on expeditions to the Himalayas."
"Glad to have you." MacAran shook his hand. It would help to have someone else along who knew mountains. "And your?"
"Lewis MacLeod. Zoologist, veterinary specialist."
"Crew member or colonist?"
"Colonist." MacLeod grinned briefly. He was small, fat, and fair‑skinned. "And before you ask, no, no formal mountaineering experience‑‑but I grew up in the Scottish Highlands, and even in this day and age, you still have to walk a good ways to get anywhere, and there's more vertical country around than horizontal"