Portal-eARC (35 page)

“What’s the pressure up to?”

He checked.
Not good
. “Almost four now.”
And I think six is going to be the limit.
“I—
crap!
”

Something had just
zipped
past him, just outside of the front viewport.

Helen’s face lit up. “He’s back!”

Sure enough, the same tendrilled, tripartite shape was now drifting in front of the rear viewport. Helen lowered herself down and waved. Somewhat to Joe’s surprise, “Nemo” waved back. Then it pointed down. Helen looked, then stiffened. “Joe—take a look through the rear cameras.”

Rising up from the depths, slowly fading into visibility, were several more shapes. Each large shape shed a smaller one which continued to rise, until there were six or seven members of what Helen had tentatively called
Bemmius Pelagica Sapiens
(which, if he recalled his scientific nomenclature right, would mean the intelligent open-ocean Bemmie) drifting near the lower end of
Zarathustra
.

Joe stared. Looking carefully, he thought he could make out some differences. “I wonder if those notches along the side are natural or identifying marks, like tattoos or the scarring in some Earth societies.”

Helen looked with obvious interest at the others, staring at what appeared to be symmetrical patterns of little nicks or notches in the edges of the fins at each of the creature’s three body ridges. “I never noticed that before. I’d think it’s artificial, but it’s hard to tell.”

One of the other creatures—somewhat larger—shoved Nemo out of the way and made a flailing backward gesture which, to judge by the manner in which all the others moved swiftly away, meant something like “back off” or “clear the area.” Once the other creatures were away, the newcomer moved to the same location Nemo had spent most of its time, and suddenly flashed several times, generated a clear plus-sign on its back, and flashed several more times, ending with a long flash.

“Oh! He’s testing what he’s been told. Joe, how many flashes was that?”

He played it back for both of them. “Six and seven—so thirteen.”

Carefully, Helen sent thirteen flashes in response.

The large newcomer backed off immediately and the…seven, Joe finally managed to determine…oceanic creatures entered into an obvious conference, combining eerie calls that the outside microphones could only sometimes record with extremely fast flickering displays. He could also make out that several of the creatures had some sort of harnesses on them, with flat things that he had to assume were bags of some sort attached to the harnesses.

Three of the…well,
people
…now approached. The center one…“That’s Nemo there, right?”

“Yes, it is. He’s the one with a three-notch pattern on his fins.”

The three stopped in front of the viewport. For a moment they hovered, motionless, and then Helen gasped.
“Look!”

On the back of one creature flickered the shape of one of his own kind, grasping tendrils and all. Nemo, in the middle, projected a simple arrow shape, the same one Helen had used for “equals.” And on the other creature…

A crude figure, with a somewhat indistinct head, but two arms and legs attached to a body.
That’s us.

We equal you.

Helen laughed, an almost teary sound in her voice, and flashed back
Yes. Yes. Yes.
“Joe, they
do
understand pictures, not just models like I was afraid.” She grabbed her portable computer, unrolled the screen to its maximum size and put it against the window. Joe saw her engage the drawing function and sketch quickly:
Human
 
Bemmie
.

Yes,
flashed Nemo. After a moment, the others also flashed
Yes.

The triad flashed excitedly; the sudden appearance of the bright computer display obviously changed things in several ways. Then they flashed another set of images.

“What…hm.” The first image was something like the oceanic Bemmie, but the hands were effectively missing, and it looked broader. “Oh,” said Helen, “it’s the things they’re riding on, the ones they’ve left back down there.” The next symbol was the arrow again, and then an obvious sketch of
Zarathustra
.

“Heh,” Joe chuckled. “They want to know if this is our riding beast. Which is sorta is, but…”

“Yes. We sort of agreed to that before, with Nemo, but…I want to try to get across that it’s
used
that way but we
made
it…how, though…?”

Joe thought a moment, and an idea came. “Hey, give me access.” He sketched in the air for a few moments, then sent the image to her display.

On the screen a picture of
Zarathustra
glowed, with an arrow pointing to pictures of the riding creature, a Europan spear, and a recognizable sketch of the harness and bags he could see on one of the Europans.

That
triggered a furious sequence of flashing and near-ultrasonic calls between the creatures, culminating in them swarming around
Zarathustra,
tapping and poking gently at various parts. A couple of them also circled around the location near
Athena
, and hovered near the ice above, which echoed with the pounding of the others trying to get through.

“Joe, can you generate a model of this whole area? A sketch-level one?”

Joe thought a moment. “I think so. All the data’s here, and
Zarathustra
’s data-processing was meant to allow it to be used as a mobile base.” He checked the parameters. “Yeah, it’s easy if you’re talking stuff to display as simple sketches.”

She explained in detail, and Joe grinned. “That might work. Might work
real
well.”

A few minutes later, the others had gathered again near the end window. Joe sent the first picture—a sketch of the two of them inside of
Zarathustra
, which hung suspended from the ice above, and the seven Europan natives hovering nearby, and farther away and down the bigger shapes of the riding creatures.

Yes
, flashed Nemo after a moment. He clearly understood they were showing him what was around them.

“Great!” Joe said. “Next one coming up.”

He zoomed the scene out. Everything in the first scene was still visible, but now they could see the thickness of the ice, and above the ice a bunch of other human figures.

The Europans considered this new idea, and hesitated. Then Nemo flickered uncertainly, and then generated an arrow, followed by
yes.

“What?”

Helen smiled. “That’s ‘equals yes’…I think he’s asking,
is this true?
”

She sent
Yes.

Nemo echoed the
Yes
, after conferring with the others.

“I like the fact that he’s apparently being allowed to keep the lead, even though that bigger guy seems almost certainly more like a boss,” Joe said. “Okay, now for the payoff.”

He animated the image, showing the people on the top trying to chip through the ice, and
Zarathustra
trying to get through from below.

Apparently the idea of
moving
pictures like that was novel. An explosion of flashing and haunting calls began, and went on for several minutes before Nemo and the others came back and looked again at the animation. Several more minutes went by with them watching. Then Nemo talked with its friends for a few more.

Then the three Europans moved so they were vertically arranged. The one on top showed some crude human figures. The one in the middle, Nemo, showed a line obviously meant to represent the ice. The bottom one showed a very simple
Zarathustra
, not much more than a lumpy oval, with two human figures inside.

Helen flashed a
yes.

Then, very slowly, flashing like a video being stepped through frame by frame, the two figures from the bottom were shown moving up, then disappearing from the bottom creature and appearing on Nemo, and finally appearing with the others above the ice.

Yes! Yes!

Joe moved up, grabbed the manipulators, and started punching at the ice overhead. He couldn’t do much, but he figured the symbolism might work.

The Europans watched, and then the one on the top turned to its companions and they talked. Then they swam down, away, heading for their riding animals, all of them, almost fading to invisibility.

And then they were visible again, riding up,
charging
up with a vengeance, and the tentacles at the front of the riding creatures were bunched up in a peculiar fashion, and they went
past
Zarathustra
, streaking by at what seemed immense velocity, and slammed, one by one, into the ice above.

Joe gave a
whoop
of triumph, and activated the communicator. “Heads up, everyone—we’ve got a second work party on the job, and they just
might
make the difference!”

Chapter 45.

“Holy
shit!”
Helen heard A.J. say. “I
felt
that! What the hell’s going on?”

“It’s the native Europans, the…the oceanic Bemmies, whatever we should call them!” she answered, feeling a grin spreading across her face. “Or, I should be accurate, it’s their riding beasts charging into the ice.”

In the background she heard a barely-audible murmur from what sounded like General Hohenheim.
If I heard right, I think that was German for “God be thanked.”

“That…just might do it, Helen, Joe.” Madeline’s voice was filled with genuine hope. “At the least it might keep the cracks we already made from permanently freezing.” She raised her voice. “All right, everyone, this is it—we’ve got to give whatever we’ve got left!”

The light-radio link went silent, the others now driving themselves to match—maybe even exceed—their earlier pace for one last burst. The echoing
thud
of the multi-jackhammer alternated with duller, heavier impacts as the riding creatures struck the underside of the ice.

Joe watched, too; there was a bemused expression on his face. “Not to look a gift worker-squid in the tentacles,” he said, “but they haven’t known us more than a few minutes. Why the hell are they working so hard to try to help us?”

“Why do human beings work so hard to save a beached whale—a whale that might die anyway?” she retorted. “Because you feel a kind of kinship, and if you
can
help, why not at least
try
?” She felt a strange surge of feeling that combined empathy with joy and the terrible tension of hope, felt tears sting her eyes.

“Well…I’d better do what I can. I don’t know how long the manipulators will take it, but no point in trying to save them for later.”

Joe locked himself in the control seat again and started methodically hammering at one spot in the ice above them, one impact after another, punching rhythmically and steadily.

And now I sit and wait.
She tried to fight off the feeling of helplessness; it was stupid and counter productive. So was that vague feeling that she was being useless, sitting there waiting for everyone else to get her out.
You made contact with them. You started the whole thing. You got lucky, of course—lucky that a local genius like “Nemo” was the one that found you—but you didn’t do half bad, Dr. Sutter.

But it was
still
terribly hard to just sit, and wait, as the ice stubbornly repelled every attempt to break it, silently and steadily trying to rebuild itself from the ocean around them.

She watched the next creature gather itself, launch upward, slam into the ice.
Perhaps that’s one of their normal defensive—or offensive—tactics. Still, I simply can’t imagine they can keep doing that very long.
They were still living flesh—flesh, based on her own analyses, not much different from their own. Animals had limits like everything else, and she doubted that even Nemo would risk damaging his mount too much for these strange creatures he had found.

But they didn’t stop, and she saw cracks now, slowly expanding.
They’re
doing
it!

She repeated the thought to Joe. “They’re doing it, Joe! I see the cracks from the
underside
now. If they can meet our people in the middle—”

Joe grunted, jabbing again with the manipulator. “Maybe…they will. Damn. Next time,” he punched with the other side, “I’ll put an automated punching function into this thing. The designers simply neglected some of the most basic capabilities!”

She tried to keep her face serious. “Oh, yes, Joe. We’ll have to submit a critical report to the designers when we get home.”

He glanced back with a grin, but then looked back and to his side. “Damnation. Four point seven atmospheres.”

“Any sign of the inner door weakening?”

“The humidity sensors twitched on one side. I think it’s starting.”

Her hope was suddenly dwindling. “We don’t have much time left, do we?”

He shrugged. “An hour, maybe. Maybe as much as an hour and a half. I wouldn’t worry about it; the way everyone’s driving themselves, either we’ll be out of here in that time, or they’ll all collapse before it happens.”

One hour
. She sat silently, watching the frantic motion outside, hearing the unceasing pounding from above and below. But the ice was
hard
, it was thick, it was tough. It was the armor of a world.
And there’s nothing that can soften it.

She suddenly sat fully upright, so suddenly she bounced off the seat.
“Of course!!”

“Of course? Of course
what?”

She paid no attention, dropping down to the display screen. She linked to the drawing application again, sketched furiously, then put the display up to the window.

But no one was looking. Joe was still hammering away at the ice above. Nemo and the other Europans were stubbornly jabbing at the ice with their spears as they sent their mounts against the impregnable roof of the world.
No one’s going to
see
this!

She glanced up.
Oh, but I can
make
them look.

She bounded up beside Joe, who glanced over but kept up his work. “Helen, what—
whoa!
”

The rear lights flared, a detonation of brilliance that illuminated the Europan ocean for a moment with light that it hadn’t seen in all its aeons, a light that seemed to suspend each Europan and its mount in empty space, sharp-edged shadows racing away into the infinite darkness, all pointing back towards
Zarathustra
.