Double Contact (31 page)

The captain shook its head, in indecision rather than negation. It said, “The Trolanni had star travel and the advanced technology to support it and were half expecting to meet other star-traveling species. The spiders don't and weren't. They would not understand. We'd probably scare them even more, give them more cause to fear and hate us and, well, we could end up seriously damaging the future philosophical development of their whole culture. Unless you can get an emotional reading from them to the contrary, first-contact protocol forbids us doing anything like that.”

“They are too distant,” said Prilicla regretfully, “and there are too many of them emoting at once for that kind of reading. All I can feel from here is a flood of hatred and aversion. If we could entice one or even a few of them closer, their subtler feelings could be analyzed. They will continue to stay away from us until the next attack. During an attack they will not be emoting subtle feelings.

“The ideal solution would be to find a way to make them talk to us,” he ended, “and not fight.”

“Yes,” said the captain, and broke contact.

*   *   *

He joined the rest of the medical team as they were moving the patients' litters onto the beach for their daily supportive medication of fresh air and sunshine. A few minutes he spent hovering above and exchanging a few words with them in turn, beginning with the
Terragar
DBDG amputees before moving to the Trolanni CHLIs to join the quiet conversation they were holding. Keet was well recovered and fully capable of moving around without a litter and meeting the others, but the knowledge that the druul-like healer and patients would not hurt either of them had not yet penetrated to the deeper, emotional levels of its mind, so that it preferred to stay on its litter behind the screens knowing that the other patients could not leave theirs. Jasam was no longer in danger, but it would not help its condition if it was forced into premature visual contact with the other DBDGs. In any case, talking to the patients was not his primary reason for coming outside.

The person who had already spoken with the spiders, he had decided, was the logical one to reopen the conversation.

An hour later, with Prilicla hovering at its shoulder, the pathologist was walking slowly in the direction of the sea and radiating feelings of mild disappointment because it was unable for reasons of personal security to immerse itself. It was carrying a small sheet of plastic that had been rolled, speaking-trumpet–fashion, into a cone because they had agreed that using a mike and
Rhabwar
's thunderous external loudspeaker would have been unnecessary vocal overkill. He was towing a small float containing the translation-computer terminal.

“I know I exchanged words with that spider captain, if that is what it is,” said Murchison as they crossed the line of disturbed sand where the meteorite screen had briefly been switched on, “but only a few nouns and a verb, maybe two, and stopping the others from shooting crossbow bolts at me might not have been an act of friendship. It may not have wanted to waste ammunition in the sea because it was expecting to capture all of us later.”

For a moment it radiated minor embarrassment, associated no doubt with a minor infringement of its Earth-human nudity taboo, then went on, “When it saw me I was wearing the only swimsuit I had with me, and this underwear is, well, differently styled and colored. It might not recognize me again. I think you're expecting too much of me, sir.”

“Perhaps,” he replied, “I'm expecting a miracle. When you are ready, friend Murchison.”

They walked and flew for about thirty meters beyond the mark in the sand left by the meteorite shield. If it had been switched on they would have moved freely through it, for it was designed to stop only incoming objects, but they would not have been able to go back again. A few spiders were moving about close to their ships, and two of them were moving back along a ramp they had built between the beach and the wreck of
Terragar,
although what people who knew nothing of metal would think of such a hard, nonorganic structure, was anyone's guess. Prilicla could feel Murchison's irritation at being ignored as it lifted the speaking trumpet to its mouth.

“Krisit,” it said, pointing at the nearest spider vessel, then turning to indicate
Rhabwar.
“Preket krisit.” It repeated the words several times before pointing at itself and saying several times, “Hukmaki.” Finally it pointed towards the spider vessel that had been first to arrive and so presumably contained her spider captain, and shouted, “Krititkukik.”

There was no visible reaction, but he could feel the cloud of hostility that was emoting from the ships being laced with eddies of interest and curiosity. On the upperworks of the nearest vessel a spider appeared and began chittering loudly and continuously through its speaking trumpet, which was not directed at them. A party of five spiders assembled around the end of the boarding ramp. Suddenly they came scurrying towards them, unlimbering their crossbows as they came.

“Krititkukik,” Murchison shouted again. “Humakik.”

“They aren't coming to talk,” said Prilicla.

“I don't have to be an empath to know that,” Murchison said, radiating the anger of disappointment. “Captain, the shield!”

“Right,” said Fletcher, “I'm powering it up for full repulsion in ten seconds from now. You've got that much time to get back across the line or you stay out there with your friends.”

Prilicla banked sharply and flew back the way he had come, weaving from side to side as the crossbow bolts whispered past his slowly beating wings. Then he thought that evasive action might not be such a good idea because the spiders were shooting while on the move, which meant that their accuracy would suffer and he might dodge into one of the bolts. He decided to do as Murchison was doing and move straight and fast while giving them a steady target at which to aim and hopefully miss.

They crossed the disturbed line of sand with a full two seconds to spare before the meteorite shield stopped any more bolts from reaching them. The pathologist halted, turned, and for a moment watched the bolts that were heading straight at them bouncing off the shield and falling harmlessly onto the sand. The intensity of the spiders' emotional radiation was such that he was forced to land, shaking uncontrollably. The pathologist raised its speaking trumpet again.

“Don't waste your breath, friend Murchison,” he said. “If you speak they will not listen. There are no calm, thinking minds among them. They feel only anger and disappointment, presumably at not being able to harm us, and an intensity of hatred and hostility so great that I haven't felt anything like it since the Trolanni reaction when they thought friend Fletcher was a druul. Let's return to our patients.”

On their way back Prilicla was walking rather than flying beside Murchison. He saw it looking at his trembling limbs and felt its concern for the empathic pain he was feeling.

“Oh, well,” it said, knowing that he knew its feelings and trying to move to a less painful subject, “at least we gave our bored, convalescent patients a little real-life drama to amuse them.”

Before he could reply, Fletcher's voice sounded in their headsets.

“There'll be no shortage of drama around here,” it said, in the calm voice it had been trained to use while reporting calamitous events. “The six spider vessels nearing the other side of the island will join the three already there within the next hour. An additional six units are hull-up on the horizon on this side, and there are two other three-unit fleets, which according to our wind-strength calculations, won't reach us until early tomorrow. All the indications are that the spiders are mounting a combined land, sea, and air assault. Your patients will have ringside seats.”

CHAPTER 31

Neither the Earth-human DGDGs nor the Trolanni CHLIs were feeling worried by the impending attack because both species were star-travelers and were aware of the effectiveness of the meteorite shield.
Terragar
's officers were feeling concern over the fact that the ongoing first contact with the spiders was not going well, but they were not deeply concerned because the ultimate responsibility for its mismanagement was not theirs and in the meantime they were willing to enjoy the spectacle. The feelings of Keet and Jasam were more selfish, radiating as they did intense relief that they were both alive and likely to remain that way, as well as general confusion at the strange things that were happening to and around them. Murchison, Danalta, and Naydrad had their feelings under control. It was the captain, whose voice was being relayed from
Rhabwar
's control deck, who vocalized its worries by telling them not to worry.

“There is no immediate cause for concern,” it said. “Our power pile will enable the life support and ship's thrusters to be operated indefinitely; but not so, the tractor-beam units and meteorite protection. In a planetary atmosphere they drain five times the power required for operation in a vacuum, and this ship was designed for speedy casualty retrieval rather than a duration flight.”

“You mean,” said Naydrad with an impatient ruffling of its fur, “that nobody expected us to be fighting an interspecies war with an ambulance ship. How long have we got?”

“Forty-six hours of full shield deployment,” it replied, “after which we'll have to lift out of here, or remain unprotected until someone rescues us. I shall explain the tactical situation as it unfolds.…”

But they didn't need the other's continuous evaluation and commentary because they could see everything that was happening for themselves.

The three ships from the other side of the island came into sight, hugging the shoreline and beaching themselves in the spaces between the first three. All six vessels dropped their landing ramps and opened the upper sail-shields where, Prilicla knew from previous observations, the gliders would be launched. There was no other visible activity and very little intership conversation. This was probably due, the captain thought, to all of the battle orders having already being issued so that they were awaiting only the signal to begin. The nearest six-unit fleet, all its sail-shields deployed to catch the wind off the sea, was approaching fast in line-abreast formation. Just above the horizon beyond them, at about fifty degrees lateral separation, two more high-flying gliders were performing signal aerobatics for three more fleets which totaled fifteen units. They were still below the horizon and would not, the captain estimated, arrive until early the next day.

The six latest arrivals found gaps in which to come aground and they, too, closed their sail-shields apart from a few ventilation openings, and lowered their landing ramps. The beach was becoming really crowded, Prilicla thought, so that
Terragar
had disappeared from sight behind a line of giant, greenish-brown mollusck. There came the sound of the senior spiders on each ship using their speaking trumpets, followed by a lengthening silence.

“I don't think we'll see any action today,” said the captain. “Plainly they are waiting for the other fifteen ships to arrive before attacking us.… Oops, I stand corrected.”

Spiders were crawling down the landing ramps of every ship to begin forming into lines on the dry sand above the water's edge. All of them were armed with crossbows and, in addition, eight of them carried between them what looked like two heavy battering rams with sharply tapering points. Simultaneously gliders were being launched on the seaward side, two from each ship.

They climbed slowly and heavily into the wind off the sea, and only when they made slow, banking turns towards the beach to take advantage of the thermals rising from the hot sand was it possible to see that the gliders carried passengers as well as pilots and that both were armed with crossbows.

The aircraft continued to gain height slowly and steadily while the ground forces deployed three-deep into a crescent formation, with the battering rams placed front and center, before advancing on the med station and watching patients.

The captain's voice returned, giving orders rather than a commentary.

“Dodds,” it said briskly, “shoot a couple of flares inland and drag them along the perimeter. The vegetation has dried out since last time so be careful not to start a major fire, just give me a line of burning bushes and smoke. There's no sign of an attack developing from that quarter but I want to put them off the idea in case they burn themselves.”

“Sir,” said Haslam, “shall I whip up another sandstorm on the beach?”

“Negative,” it replied, “there's no point in wasting the power. Last time we didn't want them to hit the meteorite shield, but they found out about it when they were shooting at Murchison and Prilicla. But have your tractors ready just in case. Dr. Prilicla.”

“Yes, friend Fletcher,” he said.

“There is no risk to your patients out there,” it went on, “because there is no way that the spiders can get through our shield, but I don't know what they might do to themselves while they're trying. It could be visually unpleasant, so I advise moving them indoors before…”

The captain's next few words were drowned by a wail of protest and accompanying emotional radiation.

“Thank you for the suggestion, friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla, “but I am receiving strong vocal and emotional objections from my patients and staff, all of whom would prefer to see the action at first hand.”

“Bloodthirsty savages,” said the captain dryly, “and I'm not talking about the spiders.”

There were twelve ships drawn up along the beach, each one carrying two gliders and a crew complement of anything up to two hundred. The bright yellow sand in front of the station was disappearing under the brownish-green bodies of over two thousand advancing spiders and, if it hadn't been for the knowledge that the meteorite shield made them invulnerable, it would have been a terrifying sight as the spiders halted about fifty meters from the shield and readied their crossbows. Apart from the faint whisper of glider slipstreams as they circled and climbed above the station, there was utter silence. Plainly, all the necessary orders had already been given and they were awaiting only the signal to attack.