The Colors of Space

  CHAPTER NINE

  The crews of repairmen were working down in the hull, and the_Swiftwing_ was a hell of clanging noise and shuddering heat.Maintenance was working overtime, but the rest of the crew, with nothingto do, stood around in the recreation rooms, tried to play games, cursedthe heat and the dreary dimness through the viewports, and twitched atthe boiler-factory racket from the holds.

  Toward the end of the third day, the biologist reported air, water andgravity well within tolerable limits, and Captain Vorongil issuedpermission for anyone who liked, to go outside and have a look around.

  Bart had a sort of ship-induced claustrophobia. It was good to feelsolid ground under his feet and the rays of a sun, even a green sun, onhis back. Even more, it was good to get away from the constant presenceof his shipmates. During this enforced idleness, their presenceoppressed him unendurably--so many tall forms, gray skins, featherycrests. He was always alone; for a change, he felt that he'd like to bealone without Lhari all around him.

  But as he moved away from the ship, Ringg dropped out of the hatchwayand hailed him. "Where are you going?"

  "Just for a walk."

  Ringg drew a deep breath of weariness. "That sounds good. Mind if I comealong?"

  Bart did, but all he could say was, "If you like."

  "How about let's get some food from the rations clerk, and do someexploring?"

  The sun overhead was a clear greenish-gold, the sky strewn with softpale clouds that cast racing shadows on the soft grass underfoot,fragrant pinkish-yellow stuff strewn with bright vermilion puff-balls.Bart wished he were alone to enjoy it.

  "How are the repairs coming?"

  "Pretty well. But Karol got his hand half scorched off, poor fellow.Just luck the same thing didn't happen to me." Ringg added. "You knowthat Mentorian--the young one, the medic's assistant?"

  "I've seen her. Her name's Meta, I think." Suddenly, Bart wished theMentorian girl were with him here. It would be nice to hear a humanvoice.

  "Oh, is it a female? Mentorians all look alike to me," Ringg said, whileBart controlled his face with an effort. "Be that as it may, she savedme from having the same thing happen. I was just going to lean against astrip of sheet metal when she _screamed_ at me. Do you think they canreally _see_ heat vibrations? She called it _red_-hot."

  They had reached a line of tall cliffs, where a steep rock-fall dividedoff the plain from the edge of the mountains. A few slender, drooping,gold-leaved trees bent graceful branches over a pool. Bart stoodfascinated by the play of green sunlight on the emerald ripples, butRingg flung himself down full length on the soft grass and sighedcomfortably. "Feels good."

  "Too comfortable to eat?"

  They munched in companionable silence. "Look," said Ringg at last,pointing toward the cliffs, "Holes in the rocks. Caves. I'd like toexplore them, wouldn't you?"

  "They look pretty gloomy to me. Probably full of monsters."

  Ringg patted the hilt of his energon-ray. "This will handle anythingshort of an armor-plated saurian."

  Bart shuddered. As part of uniform, he, too, had been issued one of theenergon-rays; but he had never used it and didn't intend to. "Just thesame, I'd rather stay out here in the sun."

  "It's better than vitamin lamps," Ringg admitted, "even if it's not verybright."

  Bart wondered, suddenly and worriedly, about the effects of greensunburn on his chemically altered skin tone.

  "Well, let's enjoy it while we can," Ringg said, "because it seems to beclouding over. I wouldn't be surprised if it rained." He yawned. "I'mgetting bored with this voyage. And yet I don't want it to end, becausethen I'll have to fight it out all over again with my family. My fatherowns a hotel, and he wants me in the family business, not five hundredlight-years away. None of our family have ever been spacemen before," heexplained, "and they don't understand that living on one planet woulddrive me out of my mind." He sighed. "How did you explain it to yourpeople--that you couldn't be happy in the mud? Or are you a career man?"

  "I guess so. I never thought about doing anything else," Bart saidslowly, Ringg's story had touched him; he had never realized quite sofully how much alike the two races were, how human the Lhari problemsand dreams could seem. _Why, of course, the Lhari aren't all spacemen.They have hotel keepers and garbage men and dentists just as we do.Funny, you never think of them except in space._

  "My mother died when I was very young," Bart said, choosing his wordsvery carefully. "My father owned a fleet of interplanetary ships."

  "But you wanted the real thing, deep space, the stars," Ringg said. "Howdid he feel about that?"

  "He would have understood," Bart said, unable to keep emotion out of hisvoice, "but he's dead now. He died, not long ago."

  Ringg's eyes were bright with sympathy. "While you were off on thedrift? Bad luck," he said gently. He was silent, and when he spoke againit was in a very different tone.

  "But some of the older generation--I had a professor in training school,funny old chap, bald as the hull of the _Swiftwing_. Taught uscosmic-ray analysis, and what he didn't know about spiral nebulae couldbe engraved on my fifth toe-claw, and he'd never been off the face ofthe planet. Not even to one of the moons! He was the supervisor of mystudent lodge, and oh, was he a--" The phrase Ringg used meant,literally, _a soft piece of cake_.

  "His feet may have been buried in mud, but his head was off in the GreatNebula. We had some wild times," Ringg reminisced. "We'd slip away tothe city--strictly against rules, it was an old-style school--and drawlots for one of us to stay home and sign in for all twelve. You see,he'd sit there reading, and when one of us came in, just shove the waxat us, with his nose in a text on cosmic dust, never looking up. So theone who stayed home would scrawl a name on it, walk out the back door,come around and sign in again. When there were twelve signed in, ofcourse, the old chap would go up to bed, and late that night the one whostayed in would sneak down and let us in."

  Ringg sat up suddenly, touching his cheek. "Was that a drop of rain? Andthe sun's gone. I suppose we ought to start back, though I hate to leavethose caves unexplored."

  Bart bent to gather up the debris of their meal. He flinched assomething hard struck his arm. "Ouch! What was that?"

  Ringg cried out in pain. "It's hail!"

  Sharp pieces of ice were suddenly pelting, raining down all around them,splattering the ground with a harsh, bouncing clatter. Ringg yelled,"Come on--it's big enough to _flatten_ you!"

  It looked to Bart as if it were at least golf-ball size, and seemed tobe getting bigger by the moment. Lightning flashed around them in suddenglare. They ducked their heads and ran.

  "Get in under the lee of the cliffs. We couldn't possibly make it backto the _Swift_--" Ringg's voice broke off in a cry of pain; he slumpedforward, pitched to his knees, then slid down and lay still.

  "What's the matter?" Bart, arm curved to protect his skull, bent overthe fallen Lhari, but Ringg, his forehead bleeding, lay insensible. Bartfelt sharp pain in his arm, felt the hail hard as thrown stones rainingon his head. Ringg was out cold. _If they stayed in this_, Bart thoughtdespairingly, _they'd both be dead!_

  Crouching, trying to duck his head between his shoulders, Bart got hisarms under Ringg's armpits and half-carried, half-dragged him under thelee of the cliffs. He slipped and slid on the thickening layer of iceunderfoot, lost his footing, and came down, hard, one arm twistedbetween himself and the cliff. He cried out in pain, uncontrollably, andlet Ringg slip from his grasp. The Lhari boy lay like the dead.

  Bart bent over him, breathing hard, trying to get his breath back. Thehail was still pelting down, showing no signs of lessening. About fivefeet away, one of the dark gaps in the cliff showed wide and menacing,but at least, Bart thought, the hail couldn't come in there. He stoopedand got hold of Ringg again. A pain like fire went through the wrist hehad smashed against the rock. He set his teeth, wondering if it hadbroken. The effort made him see stars, but he managed somehow to hoistRingg up again and haul him through the pelting hail toward the y
awninggap. It darkened around them, and, blessedly, the battering, bruisinghail could not reach them. Only an occasional light splinter of ice blewwith the bitter wind into the mouth of the cave.

  Bart laid Ringg down on the floor, under the shelter of the rockceiling. He knelt beside him, and spoke his name, but Ringg just moaned.His forehead was covered with blood.

  Bart took one of the paper napkins from the lunch sack and carefullywiped some of it away. His stomach turned at the deep, ugly cut, whichimmediately started oozing fresh blood. He pressed the edges of the cuttogether with the napkin, wondering helplessly how much blood Ringgcould lose without danger, and if he had concussion. If he tried to goback to the ship and fetch the medic for Ringg, he'd be struck by hailhimself. From where he stood, it seemed that the hailstones were gettingbigger by the minute.

  Ringg moaned, but when Bart knelt beside him again he did not answer.Bart could hear only the rushing of wind, the noise of the splatteringhail and a sound of water somewhere--_or was that a rustle of scales, adragging of strange feet?_ He looked through the darkness into thedepths of the cave, his hand on his shock-beam. He was afraid to turnhis back on it.

  _This is nonsense,_ he told himself firmly, _I'll just walk back thereand see what there is._

  At his belt he had the small flashlamp, excessively bright, that was,like the energon-beam shocker, a part of regulation equipment. He tookit out, shining it on the back wall of the cave; then drew a long breathof startlement and for a moment forgot Ringg and his own pain.

  For the back wall of the cave was an exquisite fall of crystal! Mineralsglowed there, giant crystals, like jewels, crusted with strangelichen-like growths and colors. There were pale blues and greens and,shimmering among them, a strangely colored crystalline mineral that hehad never seen before. It was blue--_No_, Bart thought, _that's just thelight, it's more like red--no, it can't be like_ both _of them at once,and it isn't really like either. In this light--_

  Ringg moaned, and Bart, glancing round, saw that he was struggling tosit up. He ran back to him, dropping to his knees at Ringg's side. "It'sall right, Ringg, lie still. We're under cover now."

  "Wha' happened?" Ringg said blurrily. "Head hurts--all sparks--all thepretty lights--can't _see_ you!" He fumbled with loose, uncoordinatedfingers at his head and Bart grabbed at him before he poked a claw inhis eye. "Don't _do_ that," Ringg complained, "can't _see_--"

  _He must have a bad concussion then. That's a nasty cut._ Gently, herestrained the Lhari boy's hands.

  "Bartol, what happened?"

  Bart explained. Ringg tried to move, but fell limply back.

  "Weren't you hurt? I thought I heard you cry out."

  "A cut or two, but nothing serious," Bart said. "I think the hail'sstopped. Lie still, I'd better go back to the ship and get help."

  "Give me a hand and I can walk," Ringg said, but when he tried to situp, he flinched, and Bart said, "You'd better lie still." He knew thathead injuries should be kept very quiet; he was almost afraid to leaveRingg for fear the Lhari boy would have another delirious fit and hurthimself, but there was no help for it.

  The hail had stopped, and the piled heaps were already melting, but itwas bitterly cold. Bart wrapped himself in the silvery cloak, glad ofits warmth, and struggled back across the slushy, ice-strewn meadow thathad been so pink and flowery in the sunshine. The _Swiftwing_, amonstrous dark egg looming in the twilight, seemed like home. Bart feltthe heavenly warmth close around him with a sigh of pure relief, but theSecond Officer, coming up the hatchway, stopped in consternation:

  "You're covered with blood! The hailstorm--"

  "I'm all right," Bart said, "but Ringg's been hurt. You'll need astretcher." Quickly, he explained. "I'll come with you and show you--"

  "You'll do no such thing," the officer said. "You look as if you'd beencaught out in a meteor shower, feathertop! We can find the place. You goand have those cuts attended to, and--what's wrong with your wrist?Broken?"

  Bart heard, like an echo, the frightening words: _Don't break any bones.You won't pass an X-ray._

  "It's all right, sir. When I get washed up--"

  "That's an _order_," snapped the officer, "do you think, on thispestilential unlucky planet, we can afford any _more_ bad luck? Metalsfatigue, Karol burned so badly the medic thinks he may never use hishand again, and now you and Ringg getting yourselves laid up and out ofaction? The medic will help me with Ringg; that Mentorian girl can lookafter you. Get moving!"

  He hurried away, and Bart, his head beginning to hurt, walked slowly upthe ramp. His whole arm felt numb, and he supported it with his goodhand.

  In the small infirmary, Karol lay groaning in a bunk, his arm bound inbandages, his head moving from side to side. The Mentorian girl Metaturned, charging a hypo. She looked pale and drawn. She went to Karol,uncovering his other arm, and made the injection; almost immediately themoaning stopped and Karol lay still. Meta sighed and drew a hand overher brow, brushing away feathery wisps that escaped from the cap tiedover her hair.

  "Bartol? You're hurt? Not more burns, I hope?"

  _She looks just like a fluffy little kitten_, Bart thoughtincongruously. Fatigue was beginning to blur his reactions.

  "Only a few cuts," he said, in Universal, though Meta had spoken Lhari.In his weariness and pain he was homesick for the sound of a familiarword. "Ringg and I were both caught in the hailstorm. He's badly hurt."

  "Sit down here."

  Bart sat. Meta's hands were skillful and cool as she sponged the bloodaway from his forehead and sprayed it with some pleasantly cold,mint-smelling antiseptic. Bart leaned back, tireder than he knew,half-closing his eyes.

  "That hail must have been enormous; we heard it through the hull.Whatever possessed you to go out into it?"

  "It wasn't hailing when we left," Bart said wearily. "The sun was asnice and green as it could be." He bit the words off, realizing he hadmade a slip, but the girl seemed not to hear, fastening a strip ofplastic over a cut. She picked up his wrist. Bart flinched in spite ofhimself, and Meta nodded. "I was afraid of that; it may be broken.Better let me X-ray it."

  "No!" Bart said harshly. "It's all right, I just twisted it. Nothing'sbroken. Just strap it up."

  "It's pretty badly swollen," the girl said, moving it gently. "Does thathurt? I thought so."

  Bart set his teeth against a cry. "It's all right, I tell you. Justbecause it's black and blue--"

  He heard her breath jolt out, her fingers clenched painfully on hiswounded wrist. She did not hear his cry this time. "And the sun was niceand _green_," she whispered. _"What are you?"_

  Bart felt himself slip sidewise; he thought for a moment that he wouldfaint where he sat. Terrified, he looked up at Meta. Their eyes met, andshe said, hardly moving her pale lips, "Your eyes--they're like mine.Your eyelashes--dark, not white. _You're not a Lhari!_"

  The pain in his wrist suddenly blurred everything else, but Metasuddenly realized she was gripping it; she gave a little, gentle cry,and cradled the abused wrist in her palm.

  "No wonder you didn't want it X-rayed," she whispered. Biting her lip,she glanced, terrified, at Karol, unconscious in the bunk. "No, he can'thear us; I gave him a heavy shot of hypnin, poor fellow."

  "Go ahead," Bart said bitterly, "yell for your keepers."

  Her gray eyes blazed at him for a moment; then, gently, she laid hiswrist on the table, went to the infirmary door and locked it on theinside. She turned around, her face white; even her lips had lost theircolor. "Who are you?" she whispered.

  "Does it matter now?"

  Shocked comprehension swept over her face. "You don't think I'd _tell_them," she whispered. "I heard talk, in the Procyon port, of a spy thathad managed to get through on a Lhari ship." Her face twisted. "You--youmust know about the man on the _Multiphase_, you know they'll--make sureI can't--hide anything dangerous to the Lhari at the end of the voyage."

  "Meta--" concern for her swept over him--"what will they do to you whenthey find out that you know and--didn't tell?
"

  Her gray eyes were wide as a kitten's. "Why, nothing. The Lhari wouldnever _hurt_ anyone, would they?"

  Brainwashed? He set his mouth grimly. "I hope you never find outdifferent."

  "Why would they need to?" she asked, reasonably. "They could just erasethe memory. I never heard of a Lhari actually hurting anyone. Butsomething like this--" She wavered, looking at him. "You look so _much_like a Lhari! How was it done? How could they do it? Poor fellow, youmust be the--the loneliest man in the Universe!"

  Her voice was compassionate. Bart felt his throat tighten, and had theawful feeling that he was going to cry. He reached with his good handfor hers, seeking the comfort of a human touch, but she flinchedinstinctively away.

  _He was a monster to this pretty girl...._

  "It looks so real," she said helplessly. "Yes, now I can see, you havetiny moons at the base of the nail, and the Lhari don't." Her faceworked. "It's--it's horrifying! How could you--"

  There was a noise in the corridor. Meta gasped and ran to unlock thedoor, stood back as the medic and the Second Officer came in, staggeringunder Ringg's weight. Carefully, they put him into a bunk. The medicstraightened, shaking his crest.

  "Did you get that wrist taken care of, Bartol?"

  Meta stepped between Bart and the officer, reaching for a roll ofbandage. "I'm working on it now, _rieko mori_," she said. "It only wantsstrapping up." But her fingers trembled as she wound the gauze, pullingeach fold tight.

  "How's--Ringg?"

  "Needs quiet," grunted the medic, "and a few sutures. Lucky you got himunder cover when you did."

  Ringg said weakly from his bunk, "Bartol saved my life. I can think ofplenty who'd have run for cover, instead of staying out in that stufflong enough to drag me inside. Thanks, shipmate."

  Meta's hand, with a swift hard pressure, lingered on Bart's shoulder asshe cut the bandage and fastened the end. "I don't think that willbother you much now," she whispered, fleetingly. "I didn't dare say itwas broken or they'd insist on X-rays. If it hurts I'll get yousomething later for the pain. If you keep it strapped up tight--"

  "It will do," Bart said aloud. The tight bandage made it feel a littlebetter, but he felt sick and dizzy, and when the medic turned and sawhim, the officer said brusquely "Watch off for you, Bartol. I'll fix thesign-out sheet, but you go to your cabin and get yourself at least fourhours of sleep. _That's an order._"

  Bart stumbled out of the cabin with relief. Safe in his own quarters, heflung himself down on his bunk, shaking all over. He'd come safelythrough one more nightmare, one more terror--for the moment! Had he putMeta in danger, too? Was there no end to this ceaseless fear? Not onlyfor himself, but for others, the innocent bystanders who stumbled intoplots they did not understand?

  _You're doing this for the stars. It's bigger than your fear. It'sbigger than you are, or any of the others...._

  He was beginning to think it was a lot too big for him.