The Aliens
he was ashamed.
The skipper growled inarticulately. He looked at the Plumie, againstanding in the golden ship's air lock.
"_We'll go back, Mr. Baird. What you've done won't save our lives, andnobody will ever know you did it. But I think well of you. Come along!_"
This was at 11 hours 5 minutes ship time.
* * * * *
A good half hour later the skipper's voice bellowed from the speakers allover the _Niccola_. His heavy-jowled features stared doggedly out ofscreens wherever men were on duty or at ease.
"_Hear this!_" he said forbiddingly. "_We have checked our course andspeed. We have verified that there is no possible jury-rig for ourengines that could get us into any sort of orbit, let alone land us onthe only planet in this system with air we could breathe. It isofficially certain that in thirteen days nine hours from now, the _Niccola_will be so close to the sun that her hull will melt down. Which will beno loss to us because we'll be dead then, still going on into the sun tobe vaporized with the ship. There is nothing to be done about it. We cando nothing to save our own lives!_"
He glared out of each and every one of the screens, wherever there weremen to see him.
"_But_," he rumbled, "_the Plumies can get away if we help them. Theyhave no cutting torches. We have. We can cut their ship free. They canrepair their drive--but it's most likely that it'll operate perfectlywhen they're a mile from the _Niccola's_ magnetic field. They can't helpus. But we can help them. And sooner or later some Plumie ship is goingto encounter some other human ship. If we cut these Plumies loose,they'll report what we did. When they meet other men, they'll be cageybecause they'll remember Taine. But they'll know they can make friends,because we did them a favor when we'd nothing to gain by it. I can offerno reward. But I ask for volunteers to go outside and cut the Plumie shiploose, so the Plumies can go home in safety instead of on into the sunwith us!_"
He glared, and cut off the image.
Diane held tightly to Baird's hand, in the radar room. He said evenly:
"There'll be volunteers. The Plumies are pretty sportingcharacters--putting up a fight with an unarmed ship, and so on. If therearen't enough other volunteers, the skipper and I will cut them free byourselves."
Diane said, dry-throated:
"I'll help. So I can be with you. We've got--so little time."
"I'll ask the skipper as soon as the Plumie ship's free."
"Y-yes," said Diane. And she pressed her face against his shoulder, andwept.
This was at 01 hours, 20 minutes ship time. At 03 hours even, there waspeculiar activity in the valley between the welded ships. There were menin space armor working cutting-torches where for twenty feet the twoships were solidly attached. Blue-white flames bored savagely into solidmetal, and melted copper gave off strangely colored clouds ofvapor--which emptiness whisked away to nothing--and molten iron andcobalt made equally lurid clouds of other colors.
There were Plumies in the air lock, watching.
At 03 hours 40 minutes ship time, all the men but one drew back. Theywent inside the _Niccola_. Only one man remained, cutting at the lastsliver of metal that held the two ships together.
It parted. The Plumie ship swept swiftly away, moved by the centrifugalforce of the rotary motion the joined vessels had possessed. It dwindledand dwindled. It was a half mile away. A mile. The last man on theoutside of the _Niccola's_ hull thriftily brought his torch to the airlock and came in.
Suddenly, the distant golden hull came to life. It steadied. It ceased tospin, however slowly. It darted ahead. It checked. It swung to the rightand left and up and down. It was alive again.
* * * * *
In the radar room, Diane walked into Baird's arms and said shakily:
"Now we ... we have almost fourteen days."
"Wait," he commanded. "When the Plumies understood what we were doing,and why, they drew diagrams. They hadn't thought of cutting free, out inspace, without the spinning saws they use to cut bronze with. But theyasked for a scanner and a screen. They checked on its use. I want tosee--"
He flipped on the screen. And there was instantly a Plumie lookingeagerly out of it, for some sign of communication established. There weresoprano sounds, and he waved a hand for attention. Then he zestfully heldup one diagram after another.
Baird drew a deep breath. A very deep breath. He pressed thenavigation-room call. The skipper looked dourly at him.
"_Well?_" said the skipper forbiddingly.
"Sir," said Baird, very quietly indeed, "the Plumies are talking bydiagram over the communicator set we gave them. Their drive works.They're as well off as they ever were. And they've been modifying theirtractor beams--stepping them up to higher power."
"_What of it?_" demanded the skipper, rumbling.
"They believe," said Baird, "that they can handle the _Niccola_ withtheir beefed-up tractor beams." He wetted his lips. "They're going to towus to the oxygen planet ahead, sir. They're going to set us down on it.They'll help us find the metals we need to build the tools to repair the_Niccola_, sir. You see the reasoning, sir. We turned them loose toimprove the chance of friendly contact when another human ship runs intothem. They want us to carry back--to be proof that Plumies and men can befriends. It seems that--they like us, sir."
He stopped for a moment. Then he went on reasonably;
"And besides that, it'll be one hell of a fine business proposition. Wenever bother with hydrogen-methane planets. They've minerals andchemicals we haven't got, but even the stones of a methane-hydrogenplanet are ready to combine with the oxygen we need to breathe! We can'tcarry or keep enough oxygen for real work. The same thing's true withthem on an oxygen planet. We can't work on each other's planets, but wecan do fine business in each other's minerals and chemicals from thoseplanets. I've got a feeling, sir, that the Plumie cairns arelocation-notices; markers set up over ore deposits they can find butcan't hope to work, yet they claim against the day when their scientistsfind a way to make them worth owning. I'd be willing to bet, sir, thatif we explored hydrogen planets as thoroughly as oxygen ones, we'd findcairns on their-type planets that they haven't colonized yet."
The skipper stared. His mouth dropped open.
"And I think, sir," said Baird, "that until they detected us they thoughtthey were the only intelligent race in the galaxy. They were upset todiscover suddenly that they were not, and at first they'd no idea whatwe'd be like. But I'm guessing now, sir, that they're figuring on whatchemicals and ores to start swapping with us." Then he added, "When youthink of it, sir, probably the first metal they ever used wasaluminum--where our ancestors used copper--and they had a beryllium agenext, instead of iron. And right now, sir it's probably as expensive forthem to refine iron as it is for us to handle titanium and beryllium andosmium--which are duck soup for them! Our two cultures ought to thrive aslong as we're friends, sir. They know it already--and we'll find it outin a hurry!"
The skipper's mouth moved. It closed, and then dropped open again. Thesearch for the Plumies had been made because it looked like they had tobe fought. But Baird had just pointed out some extremely commonsenseitems which changed the situation entirely. And there was evidence thatthe Plumies saw the situation the new way. The skipper felt such enormousrelief that his manner changed. He displayed what was almost effusivecordiality--for the skipper. He cleared his throat.
"_Hm-m-m. Hah! Very good, Mr. Baird_," he said formidably. "_And ofcourse with time and air and metals we can rebuild our drive. For thatmatter, we could rebuild the _Niccola_! I'll notify the ship's company, Mr.Baird. Very good!_" He moved to use another microphone. Then he checkedhimself. "_Your expression is odd, Mr. Baird. Did you wish to saysomething more?_"
"Y-yes, sir," said Baird. He held Diane's hand fast. "It'll be monthsbefore we get back to port, sir. And it's normally against regulations,but under the circumstances ... would you mind ... as skipper ...marrying Lieutenant Holt and me?"
The skipper snorted. Then
he said almost--almost--amiably;
"Hm-m-m. You've both done very well, Mr. Baird. Yes. Come to thenavigation room and we'll get it over with. Say--ten minutes from now."
Baird grinned at Diane. Her eyes shone a little.
This was at 04 hours 10 minutes ship time. It was exactly twelve hourssince the alarm-bell rang.
THE END
[Transcriber's note:
The following typographical errors have been corrected: "congenial" to "congenital" "Mircowaves" to "Microwaves" "undoutbedly" to "undoubtedly"