Double Contact (15 page)

“Maybe it doesn't like you, sir,” said Dodds, laughing nervously, “because your feet's too big.”

Fletcher ignored its lieutenant's insubordination as well as the anxiety that had caused it, and said, “With respect, I don't intend to wait here doing nothing while you and your robot friend socialize. Dodds and I will follow you to the next intersection, then we'll try to find other walkways that will take us around to the control section. Earlier you suggested that our metal friend might be the only surviving crew member. If you're right, then it can't bar our movements and stay with you at the same time. Keep your communicator channel open at all times, Doctor, and have fun.”

The robot hesitated in obvious indecision when the two officers turned onto a side walkway, although Prilicla could not detect the emotional radiation that should have accompanied it at such short range. But its movements were communicating feelings—someone or something else's feelings—in a subtle form of body language that he could read. There was a tenuous wisp of emotional radiation in the area, much too faint to be readable, and he was now quite sure that this robot was a highly sophisticated construct of limited intelligence which was little more than the hands and eyes of an entity who, for reasons still to be discovered, could not move.

But if he was being seen or his presence sensed in some other fashion through this robot, it or they might have their own reasons other than sheer physical size why they preferred the close approach of a Cinrusskin to that of Earth-humans. In which case it might even be possible, considering the robot crew member's lack of hostility, that they wanted to make contact with him.

That was why, when he reached the point of his previous closest approach to the control section when fatigue had forced his return to
Rhabwar,
he stopped to hang motionless with one hand holding lightly onto the netting. The robot did the same.

For a moment he looked at the small, recessed panel with the three colored buttons, which was plainly the actuator for the nearby door, then with his free hand he reached forward very slowly to bring a digit to a stop one inch above each button in turn, then he withdrew the hand and used the same finger to point at the robot. He repeated the process several times before the crew member reacted. It moved back quickly the way they had come to stop at and block the nearest walkway intersection.

Bitterly disappointed, he thought,
Now it doesn't want me here for some reason.
Or did it? The background emotional radiation was still too tenuous for clear definition, but he could not feel anything that resembled strong rejection.

“Friend Fletcher,” he said into the communicator, “I have a feeling that I may be about to make progress. But the robot, or the agency presently directing it, is uneasy and has placed it on guard at the entrance to the walkway you and friend Dodds are using. Our radio traffic must be detectable so they know that I'm talking to you although they won't know what I'm saying. That will have to wait until we're able to program our translation computer for their language, which will be a separate problem. But right now I want to reassure these people by appearing to give you orders which you will plainly be obeying without delay or question. Will you comply, friend Fletcher?”

“What orders?” said the captain in a guarded voice.

“To vacate the forward section of the ship,” said Prilicla, “and move back to the place where we came on board. We must make it plain that you are no longer investigating the control area. Please do that immediately.”

“But temporarily,” said the captain firmly. “This ship is crammed with unique technology which includes a weapon that could threaten the peace and stability of the Federation. It has to be investigated.”

“Of course, friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla, “but not right now.”

“Very well,” the other replied, radiating equal levels of irritation, disappointment, and impatience. “I won't promise not to look around back there, especially at the circuitry of the hull sensors. But don't worry, we won't do anything to worry your robot friend. And if you should get into trouble, Doctor, there's something you should know.

“From where we are now,” it went on before he could respond, “we have a clear view through the netting of a strongly supported, square-sectioned metal-walled passageway leading from the big forward hatch that Dodds found to Control. I'd say it was used to load bulk consumables or heavy equipment. Internally, the structure shows no sign of the circuitry that underlies the hull. So if you should need help quickly, we can cut a way into the passageway and get into Control by the back door. I don't think a computer virus could travel up the flame of my cutting torch.

“Keep this channel open, your recorders on at all times, and be careful,” the captain ended, its feeling of concern for him making it give unnecessary warnings. “We're moving back now.”

Prilicla watched as they withdrew towards the stern. When it was clear that they were not intending to double-back to Control, the robot moved back quickly to Prilicla and the actuator panel. This time he could sense no hesitancy in its body language, or that of its controller, as it began tapping keys. He was noting the colors and sequence for future reference when the forward wall became a large door that began sliding into a recess.

When it was fully open, bright orange lighting units placed at two-meter intervals and recessed into what was presumably the ceiling came to life along the length of another passageway that stretched ahead for close to thirty meters to another intersection. All four surfaces were opaque, made either from metal or hardened plastic, and covered with netting where it was not interrupted by transparent access hatches. Deliberately he moved past them slowly so as to give his vision pickup and himself a chance to see what lay on the other side. Through one he had a foreshortened view of the passageway leading from control to the hull that Fletcher had mentioned earlier, but mostly there were only regimented tangles of color-coded wiring. He was sensing faint but definite feelings of uncertainty and impatience from somewhere.

As he reached the intersection the robot remained clinging to the netting of the surface facing him. It made no move to guide him or block his way, so it seemed that the choice of direction was being left to him. Prilicla was aware of two distinct sources of emotional radiation, both of them organic. The robot followed him as he moved into the side passage on his right and towards the stronger of the two. The passage ended at another door and actuator panel.

The source of emotional radiation strengthened almost to the level of readability.

CHAPTER 15

Again he positioned his hand a few inches from the panel and, without actually touching the buttons, moved his index finger from one to the other in the same sequence the robot had used while opening the first door, then waited. Hopefully he was displaying intelligence and memory as well as asking permission to proceed.

If the combination on this door was different, and it was booby-trapped and he was being allowed to make a mistake, then he might not survive the experience. The robot moved closer to him but it did not interfere. He pressed the buttons, the door slid open, and he moved slowly into the middle of another shorter, brightly lit passageway, then stopped.

His emotional radiation was so confused that for a long moment he could scarcely analyze it himself.

“Are you getting this?” he said finally.

“Yes, Doctor,” Haslam's voice replied from
Rhabwar.
It sounded excited. “But remember to—”

“Getting what?” the captain's voice broke in impatiently.

“I don't know, sir,” Haslam replied. “You'd have to see it for yourself. And Dr. Prilicla, please remember to move your head and your helmet vision pickup very slowly, and hold it steady on each area you are describing. In case of, well, accidents, that is very important if we're to have sharp images for later study.”

Prilicla was well aware of that fact, but perhaps the other was trying to reassure both itself and himself that he wouldn't be speaking for posterity.

He ignored the remark and went on. “As you can see, the surfaces of the walls, floor, and ceiling of this stretch contain more transparent hatches than there are opaque surfaces, and there is a major change in the configuration of the netting. It is no longer attached to the wall surfaces and has instead been replaced by what appears to be a light, open-lattice metal cylinder. It runs along the center of the passageway, is strongly supported at each end and, I would say, forms a convenient working position for crew members needing access to the systems behind the transparent hatches. Between the cylindrical net and the transparent hatches there isn't much room for maneuvering…”

But then, I don't need much,
he added silently.

He moved forward along the cylindrical net in a slow spiral so as to cover all the inner surfaces of the passageway, speaking as he went. At one particularly large transparent panel he moved a hand close to its actuator buttons without touching them. Immediately the robot moved closer to nudge the hand away. He braced himself against the net and pressed his helmet and vision sensor firmly against the transparency. The robot did not react.

“Plainly this is a case of ‘Look but don't touch,'” he went on. “The wiring behind this panel is similar to that in the damaged robot crew member we found on
Terragar.
I'm holding the vision pickup motionless against the panel so that you'll be able to use high magnification on the image…”

“I am,” said Haslam with enthusiasm. “That looks good, Doctor, whatever it is.”

There was an impatient sound of an Earth-human throat being cleared and the captain said irritably, “Dammit, will I have to go back to
Rhabwar
to find out what you're doing here?”

Prilicla didn't reply at once because he had moved to another panel. Even though the view revealed mechanisms and connections much cruder in design and fabrication than the previous one, once again his hand was pushed away from the actuator mechanism.

He continued to describe clearly everything he was seeing and thinking, but not what he was feeling. The emotional radiation in the area was strengthening as he moved towards the other end of the passageway, but it was not yet clear enough to describe even to himself.

“… This area appears to be dedicated to complex plumbing,” he continued. “There are single and grouped pipes, from half an inch to two inches in diameter and distinctively color-coded. The fact that I was gently discouraged from opening the access hatch is a measure of their importance. I can't remember seeing piping with these codings on the way here. This makes me suspect that they are a local phenomenon, and probably the conduits and metering devices for the crew's air supply, water, or whatever other working fluid they use, and their food. Now I'm moving closer to another large door and actuator panel at the other end of the passageway and will try to open it.… No, I won't.”

While he had been speaking the robot had swarmed along to the opposite side of the cylindrical net and interposed its body between Prilicla and the actuator panel. Gently he slowly extended a hand and tried to move it aside.

It resisted strongly but took no other action.

“Interesting,” he said. “Apparently it trusts me, but not enough to let me go all the way in.” To the captain he went on, “Friend Fletcher, earlier you mentioned returning to
Rhabwar
to see what I am doing. Are you and the lieutenant engaged in anything of vital importance at the moment?”

“We're investigating the interior hull circuitry and the leads to the power source aft. But the short answer is no, so stop wasting time being polite. What do you want me to do?”

“I want both of you to go back to
Rhabwar,
” said Prilicla, “and await further instructions.…”

“That means leaving you alone here,” the captain broke in. “I don't feel happy about that.”

“… Depending on how well things go here,” Prilicla continued, ignoring the interruption, “I want you to send friend Dodds back with the portable holo projector and the standard first-contact tapes. I detect no strong feelings of personal animosity here, but if it will make you feel better, then the lieutenant may remain here. But it must stay well away from the control section. For some reason the Earth-humans, or maybe just the DBDG body configuration, make these people very much afraid.”

“Not all humanoids are good guys,” said Lieutenant Dodds. “Maybe they ran into some hostile elements during the Etlan War.…”

“The Etlan police action,” Fletcher corrected automatically, and went on. “They could have had a bad experience with Earth-human look-alikes during the hostilities, or have entirely different reasons that we don't yet understand. But Doctor, are you saying that you're ready to open communications with them?”

“I'm ready to try,” said Prilicla.

He moved his helmet as close to the door as the robot would allow, then closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind of all distractive thoughts and feelings except for the tenuous fog of emotional radiation that he was trying to isolate and identify.

As he had expected from a survivor of a wrecked ship, the strongest emotions were negative. There was fear that was being controlled with difficulty, and a deep, corroding despair and concern that might or might not be personal, and pain. The pain was not the acute form characteristic of trauma, although there was a little of that present, too. It seemed to be more emotional than physical, and associated with a feeling of imminent loss. But within that dark fog there was a pale glimmer of curiosity, and wonder, trying to shine through.

It was time Prilicla shone a little light of his own. Literally.

Describing aloud what he was doing and thinking, he began switching on and off his helmet spotlight, low enough to be barely perceptible by his own eyes at first, then gradually increasing the intensity. He didn't want the alien survivor to mistake the light for a weapon, but he also wanted to know if he was being seen through the robot's eyes or if there were other visual sensors in operation. When he began to detect feelings of physical discomfort that were characteristic of sensory overload, presumably a reaction to a light that was now dazzling it, he reduced the brightness until its feeling of discomfort went away. Next he began flashing his light in an attempt to transmit intelligence in a form that he hoped the other should understand—simple arithmetic.