The Dig
"Small gestures, that's the ticket." Low demonstrated, calling up features as tiny as craters on individual moons. Though he never gave up on the hope, nowhere did he find signs of intelligent life. But then, the galaxy was vast, he had no idea which direction to go or where to look, and they'd only been playing with the system for a few minutes. Given time to learn how to operate the remarkable mechanism more efficiently, there was no telling what they might find.
"Fascinating." Brink was toying with a system that contained no less than three asteroid belts and fifteen planets. "It responds to limbs of any size and shape. No actual contact is necessary, so we can operate it as easily as a Cocytan, or any other intelligent being. Apparently mere presence is sufficient for activation."
"Can you imagine what a teaching tool this would make?" Low flung a handful of deep-space comets back into their orbits. "The sense of empowerment it would give a child? You'd never get a group of ten-year-olds out of here."
"I am most reluctant to leave myself," Brink admitted. "If we only knew what direction to probe, how far to go, I suspect we could call up a perfect representation of the solar system. Assuming that their observations extended that far, of course. The Sun and Earth may lie outside the boundaries of this highly detailed map. Our solar system might not be discernible in detail from Cocytus."
"There has to be a key somewhere. A galographic index," Low surmised.
Brink agreed. "I suspect there is, but finding it is another matter. And if found, how are we to read it?" He waved at the enveloping artificial firmament. "Without knowing even in which direction to begin, it would take years to examine every individual system contained within this projection."
"I've been looking. Concentrating on the brightest stars." Low's expression was glum. "I still don't recognize so much as a single sun."
"There is no imagining the distance we have traveled. We must be far from home indeed."
They immersed themselves in the delights and marvels of the planetarium, until Low reluctantly reminded his companion that they still needed to check out at least one more spire.
"This is fun, and enlightening, but it's not getting us any closer to home. I'd like to find Maggie, too, and introduce her to our discoveries."
"I confess you have me wondering about her condition." Brink stood surrounded by stars, his head tilted as he surveyed a sky like no other. "How do we turn it off, I wonder?"
"By doing the opposite of what's needed to turn it on, I guess." Low studied the darkness. There was nothing to indicate a way out—no illuminated arrows, no distant light demarcating the location of the arch, nothing. "I think the door was back this way." He headed off through the stars, Brink following him closely. The scientist had a good sense of direction, but knew it would be no match for an astronaut's.
They'd walked for what seemed like half a mile but in reality was much less, when the universe twisted around them. The incredible artificial cosmos vanished. Once again they found themselves in a high, featureless, empty domed chamber. The exit loomed just ahead, and beyond, the transport sphere waiting silently on its track bed.
"Incredible." Brink turned a slow circle. There was nothing to indicate that the room held so much as a dim light bulb. The only remaining glow came from the life crystals that filled the scientist's pockets. "We must come back to this place!"
"Yes." Low was in complete agreement. "After we've found something we can eat."
"I wonder what marvels remain to us."
"I'd settle for a return ticket."
As it developed, further exploration was to be delayed.
Brink pulled up suddenly and pointed. "Commander, I thought I saw something move over there."
Low whirled. "What? Where?"
The scientist pointed. "That way, near the back of the tunnel. The sphere loomed before them, beckoning. Brink cupped his hands to his mouth. "Maggie? Maggie Robbins!" There was no reply. "Could she have followed us here?"
"Not unless the sphere went back for her, or there are two running on this same track. You've been squinting at too many nebulae, Ludger."
"Verdampt! I was sure I saw something." He started forward ... and found his progress blocked.
The creature had no legs. That in itself was not surprising. Legless life-forms were common enough on Earth. But as a general rule they did not run to size. This Cocytan counterpart was big. As massive as Low, it boasted a bony exoskeleton that was dominated by a swelling rib cage. The equally gaunt skull swayed back and forth on the end of a long, flexible neck, while the tail terminated in a spatulate, diamond-shaped flange. Two thin but strong structures that might equally well have been arms, legs or wings protruded from the upper third of the emaciated body.
As to the function of one visible structure the two men shared no doubts: The double jaws were filled with sharp white teeth. In addition to teeth, the creature also had company.
"Easy." Low's voice dropped to a whisper. "We're an alien form. Maybe they won't know what to make of us."
Responding to the pilot's voice, the creatures raised themselves up and began to hump across the floor toward them. They resembled an ambulating boneyard, a brace of pythons turned inside out. Convinced the creatures had no intention of presenting him with a bouquet of posies, Low began to backpedal toward the archway.
"Eellike motions." Brink kept pace with his companion. "They could belong to any phylum, any family."
"Look at those teeth," Low exclaimed. "Those didn't evolve to crop grass." He halted, and Brink bumped into him.
"Really, Commander. I think we should continue our retreat. Perhaps activating the planetarium will disorient them."
"Too late, Ludger."
Three more of the monstrosities had materialized behind them, leaving the two men to wonder how the beasts had gained access to the doorless, windowless, featureless planetarium chamber. It was a mystery whose solution would have to wait. The active, inimical creatures posed a more immediate problem.
Cut off from the planetarium and the transport sphere, they turned and ran toward the back of the boarding platform.
"Somehow we've got to get around them and into the sphere!" Low exclaimed as he ran. "And we've got to do it before one of those things accidentally flops inside and sends it racing away, or we'll be stuck here. I don't know about you, but I don't want to have to try to walk that tunnel. Not only aren't there any lights, it would be a real awkward place to get caught if a sphere came rolling toward you."
"They appear capable of rapid movement," Brink declared, "yet they are reluctant to attack. They pursue us, but remain wary."
"We may look like food," Low panted, "but maybe we don't smell right or something. Assuming they have a sense of smell, or any other senses that we'd recognize."
Brink looked back over his shoulder. The creatures were continuing their horrible, humping pursuit. "Whatever they are employing, it is enough. They know we are here."
"Throw 'em a life crystal," Low suggested.
"Don't be absurd, Commander! Not only are the crystals priceless and the supply finite, it would probably only give them strength."
"You might be right there." The vehemence of the scientist's response caused Low's gaze to narrow. "But we've got to try something." He found himself wishing for a nice, freshly lubricated, unscientific .30-.30. No doubt a number of exotic weapons sat in display cases in the museum spire, appropriately labeled and ready for use. Trouble was, they didn't know what was a weapon and what a kitchen blender. Besides, they were on the wrong island.
"I see several doors ahead." Brink was having trouble breathing. "Which one?"
"Any one that opens," Low shot back. Behind him, the eels were closing ground. As their bony bodies smacked rhythmically against the floor, they emitted nasty hissing sounds that seemed inadequate for their mass. Occasionally one would lift the upper third of its bulk off the floor, the better to locate the retreating humans before resuming pursuit.
Low reached the middle door. There
was no handle, but deep grooves were etched into both sides of the barrier. Hooking his fingers into first one series of slots, then the next, he tried tugging hard.
Brink stood nearby, watching. "Hurry, Commander!"
"What do you think I'm doing? This doesn't require any special scientific expertise, you know."
Taking the hint, Brink started prying with his own fingers. He had no more success than his companion. The door remained resolutely shut.
Fumbling in his pockets and at his service belt, Low tried every compact tool he had. Nothing worked, and the eels were very close now.
"I'm all out of bright ideas," he growled.
Brink had his hack against the smooth wall. "We will have to try to fight them."
"Maybe your teeth are sharper than mine. There's one thing we haven't tried yet."
So saying, he retraced their steps until he was almost within biting distance of the nearest eel. Then he turned, lowered his shoulder, and charged.
Under the impact, the door gave way with a satisfying crash.
Both men found themselves in a small, narrow hallway whose damp confines were anything but encouraging. It stank like a charnel pit. Piles of bones and other organic debris littered the floor.
With the eels pressing close on their heels, they retreated into the room. Low momentarily lost his balance, cursed, and didn't look down to see what had caused him to slip.
"Feeding time at the zoo and we've holed up in the food locker. Great!"
"I have no desire to become a lunch myself," muttered Brink. "I cannot imagine what these creatures normally eat, but it is evident that their intentions toward us are anything but benign. Their aggressiveness suggests that they are more than simply scavengers." The eels were inside the doorway now, their warped skulls weaving slowly back and forth as they took stock of their surroundings.
Low sniffed. "Hey, maybe they don't like German food." It was a comment more worthy of the long-absent Borden. Brink looked at his companion in surprise, and Low took note of it. "I always said that I'd try to be upbeat before I died." New concern brought an unpleasant vision to the forefront of his thoughts.
"I hope Maggie hasn't run into anything like these and that's why we haven't heard from her." Something caught his eye before the scientist could comment, and he gripped the other man by his shirt. "Over here! Get out of the way!"
"There is no 'out of the way,'" Brink replied morosely. "We are trapped here and ... vas ist mit ihnen los? What's the matter with you?"
Low had grabbed him and bodily heaved him to one side. A moment later the first eels dug in with their primitive limbs and threw themselves forward. Brink shut his eyes, but it was other quarry the creatures had in mind. Less mobile quarry.
Landing with a great squishing sound they splashed into the nearest of the organic mounds. They were followed in short order by the remaining three. Soon all five were slithering and crawling through the slimy sweepings. The sounds of swallowing, gulping and bones breaking filled the room. Decaying compost was ripped apart.
Low waited, concealing himself and Brink behind another refuse pile until he was certain the creatures were fully occupied. "See? They weren't after us, per se. They wanted in here. We just happened to get ourselves caught in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Astute observation, Commander. My congratulations. And now, not to put too fine a scientific point on it, I think it would behoove us to get the hell out of here, nicht wahr?"
Moving slowly so as not to attract undue attention in the event that one or more of the eels might be tempted to try a change in its diet, they slipped out from behind the mess and tiptoed toward the open doorway.
"It doesn't make any sense," Low educed when they were finally back on the transport platform. "Why should those creatures be roaming freely around here? What purpose do they serve?"
"Ask a Cocytan." Acutely conscious of their narrow escape, Brink was in no mood to entertain irrelevant theories. "Come, Commander. As you so accurately put it before our path was crossed, we have another spire to inspect."
Though unable to put the incident aside, Low did not let it affect his feet. Climbing into the sphere, he sat down next to Brink. The familiar, unupholstered bench felt as comfortable as the plushest couch. A moment later the entrance irised shut and the orb began to roll.
Only then did the two men allow themselves to relax. It had been brought home to them in unmistakable fashion that not everything they were likely to encounter on this world was guaranteed to be benign or inanimate.
"Local vermin." Brink had leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
Low's brows pulled together. "I beg your pardon?"
"That's the explanation. Those eel-creatures had no special purpose. After this place was abandoned by its makers, they somehow found their way in. They are simply scavengers, like rats or roaches."
"The room full of organic debris?"
Brink had an answer for that too. "An ancient repository. Or one that continues to function on automatic. As to the source of the organic material, devoid of information I do not feel justified in speculating further. I can say only that I think it would be best if we continue to watch our step."
"Amen to that."
"As we roam deeper into these complexes, we may encounter more such creatures, or even worse."
"I've thought of that." Low's fingers itched. "Wish I had a gun."
"Its usefulness would be debatable. I feel that possession of a gun in dangerous surroundings carries with it a corresponding increase in overconfidence."
"Fine," Low swore. "Give me a Mossburg street sweeper and I'll deal with the overconfidence. Sorry if that's not showing the proper scientific spirit."
"Under the circumstances, Commander, I forgive you." The scientist sighed. "Ever since we stepped outside the asteroid and I saw the first small invertebrate scuttle under a rock, I felt there must be larger, more menacing creatures living here. What could be more natural for them than to take shelter in these numerous chambers?"
"If we find one that can activate the asteroid," Low murmured, "I'll gladly feed it a finger or two." The sphere was picking up speed now, accelerating smoothly along its unsullied track.
CHAPTER 14
"I thought the bipeds handled that rather well."
The Cocytans had gathered in a cluster above the main island. So dense was the distortion induced by their concentrated presence that no other thought was possible in their immediate vicinity. Confused fliers sank to the ground or flapped dizzily toward the distant mainland, while within the confines of rock and earth, creatures simpler still shuddered and settled deep into their burrows. Only those that were relatively mindless, such as the scavenger-eels, were not affected. Those, and any capable of higher thought, which automatically acted as a shield against the monumental mental presence.
Among the latter could be counted only three, and they had trouble enough to deal with.
Most of the imperceptible visitors were not directly perceiving the bipeds. They were content to allow those who had been involved from the beginning to debate meanings and actions, satisfied to let them interpret and promulgate. There was else to observe, other to contemplate. They paid attention with only a portion of themselves, yet understood with lucid simultaneity. The system was perfectly efficient and historically unfulfilling.
Paradise, they had quickly learned, was paved with ruts from which none could escape.
"With the full resources of the planetarium at their disposal they could not even locate their home system!" The four-and-twenty who commented did not try to hide their contempt. Their forcefulness was such that it bestirred a fragment of leaf to take flight. No one noticed because there were none present to notice. There were only the marooned bipeds, who were wholly immersed in transitory moments of their own.
" 'Eels', they called the scavengers. A short name for a lengthy entity. They avoided them neatly."
"Pure accident, fortuitous coincidence," in
sisted thirty-three others as they sought sixty-six of like mind to make three-thirds that would be less than a hundred. "They fled and hid and stumbled blindly out of the way. No credit attaches to such action. They did not try to understand, or resist, or meld."
"They survived," vouchsafed the supporters of the first. "They cannot be criticized for inelegance of solution. What matters are results."
"They are favored by the grand intangibles. They alter variables in their favor." The great mass of undecided declaimed emotionlessly. "We have seen so many come and go. They fleetingly amuse before their bones energize the landscape. These may yet join their predecessors. Meanwhile, it cannot be denied that they have advanced. Meanly, poorly, but advanced nonetheless. They deserve reflection."
"I maintain that luck can be quantified as effectively as any natural law." Doubters in their many descended on the individual who had thus postulated. Supporters lined up in their hundreds to argue on its behalf. And so it went, one of innumerable such discussions that raged above the islands. Below, the bipeds continued to amble ignorantly from place to place as storms in heaven went unperceived.
The sphere began to slow, eventually rolling to a stop at the end of the planetarium line. After lingering to assure themselves that the tunnel was otherwise deserted, Brink and Low exited and walked quickly back into the main chamber. Nothing had changed since their previous visit. The heap of collapsed ceiling still dominated the sleek floor. As before, there was no sign of the third member of their party. A check of his own unit showed Low that she had yet to reactivate her pen communicator.
"That's it," rumbled Low with finality. "She's done enough exploring. I think it's time we all got back together and discussed what we're going to do next. She may have acquired information we can use."