The Moon Moth and Other Stories (32 page)

Gench glanced covertly at Kosmin, who was considering the handholds with lips pursed in distaste. Gench marched forward and climbed the ladder. Kosmin started as if he had been stung. He grimaced, took a step forward, put one of his big legs on the first rung.

Drewe came forward to counsel caution. “Better not risk it, Professor Kosmin; why take chances? I’ll have technicians open the port, then we all can enter in safety. We are in no haste, none whatever.”

Kosmin thought, “You’re in no haste, of course not! And while you dither, that stick-insect walks inside pre-empting the best of everything!”

This indeed was Gench’s intent. Clambering down through the torn hull with his dome-light on he found himself in a marvelous environment of shapes and colors which could only be characterized, if tritely, by the word ‘weird’.
*
Certain functional details resembled those of Earth ships, but with odd distortions and differences of proportion that were subtly jarring. “Naturally, and to be expected,” Gench told himself. “We alter environment to the convenience of our needs: the length of our tread, the reach of our arms, the sensitivity of our retinas, many other considerations. And these other races, likewise…Fascinating…I suspect that a man confined for any length of time in this strange ship might become seriously disturbed, if not deranged.” With great interest Gench inspected the Wasp corpses which lay sprawled along the corridors: blue-black husks, chitinous surfaces still glossy where dust had not settled. How long would corpses remain unaltered, Gench wondered. Forever? Why not? At 100 degrees K, in an inert atmosphere, it was difficult to imagine changes occurring except those stimulated by cosmic rays…But to work. No time now for speculation! He had stolen a march on the torpid Kosmin, and he meant to make the most of it.

One encouraging matter: there was no lack of writing. Everywhere were signs, plaques, notices in angular interweaving lines which at first glance offered no hope of decipherment. Gench was pleased rather than otherwise. The task would be challenging, but with the aid of computers, pattern-recognizing devices, keys and correlations derived from a study of the context in which the symbols occurred (here indeed lay the decipherer’s basic contribution to the process) the language eventually would be elucidated. Another matter: aboard a ship of this size there might well exist not only a library, but rosters, inventories, service manuals pertaining to the various mechanisms: a wealth of material! And Gench saw his problem to be, not the decipherment, but the presence of Professor Kosmin.

Gench shook his head fretfully. A damnable nuisance! He must have a word with Director Drewe. Kosmin perhaps could be assigned to another task: indexing material to be transshipped to Earth, something of the sort.

Gench proceeded through the corridors and levels of Big Purple, trying to locate either a central repository of written materials, or failing this, the control center. But the ship’s architecture was not instantly comprehensible and Gench was initially unsuccessful. Wandering back and forth, he found himself in what appeared to be a storage hold, stacked with cases and cartons, then, descending a ramp, he came to the base level and an entry foyer. The port had been forced; commissioners and technicians were passing in and out. Gench halted in disgust, then returned the way he had come: through the storage hold, along corridors, up and down ramps. He began meeting other members of the commission, and hurried his steps to such an extent that his colleagues turned to look after him in surprise. At last he came to the control room, though it bore no resemblance to the corresponding office of any Earth ship, and in fact Gench had passed through before without recognizing its function.

Professor Kosmin, already on hand, glanced around at Gench, then resumed the examination of what appeared to be a large book.

Gench marched indignantly forward. “Professor Kosmin, I prefer that you do not disturb the source materials, or move them, as the context in which they are found may be important.”

Kosmin gave Gench a mild glance and returned to his scrutiny of the book.

“Please be extremely careful,” said Professor Gench. “If any materials are damaged through mishandling—well, they are irreplaceable.” Gench stepped forward. Kosmin moved slightly but somehow contrived to thrust his ample haunch into Gench, and thus barred his way.

Gench glared at his colleague’s back, then swung around and departed the chamber in an ill-concealed huff.

He sought out Director Drewe. “Director, may I have a word with you?”

“Certainly.”

“I fear that my investigations, and indeed the success of the entire translation program, are being compromised by the conduct of Professor Kosmin, who insists upon intruding into my scope of operation. I am sorry to trouble you with a complaint of this sort, but I feel that a decisive act now on your part will enormously facilitate my work.”

Director Drewe sighed. “Professor Kosmin has taken a similar position. Something must be done. Where is he now?”

“In the control chamber, thumbing through an absolutely vital element of the investigation, as if it were a discarded magazine.”

Drewe and Gench walked toward the control chamber. Gench said, “I suggest that you use Professor Kosmin in some administrative capacity: logging, indexing, compilation, or the like, until the translation program is sufficiently advanced that he may employ his specialized talents. As of now—ha ha!—there are no languages for him to compare!”

Drewe made no comment. In the control room they found Kosmin still absorbed in the book.

“What have we here?” inquired Drewe.

“Hmm. Umph…A highly important find. It appears to be—I may be over-optimistic—a dictionary, a word-book, a correspondence between the languages of the two races.”

“If this is the case,” declared Gench, “I had better take charge of it at once.”

Drewe heaved a deep sigh. “Gentlemen, temporarily, at any rate, we must arrange a division of function so that neither you, Professor Kosmin, nor you, Professor Gench, are hampered. There are two races here, two languages. Professor Kosmin, which of the two interests you the more profoundly?”

“That is difficult to say,” rumbled Kosmin. “I am not yet acquainted with either.”

“What about you, Professor Gench?”

With his eyes fixed on the book, Gench said, “My first emphasis will be upon the records of this ship, though naturally, when the inquiry is expanded and I assemble a staff, I will devote equal effort to the other ships.”

“Bah!” declared Kosmin, with as much emphasis as he ever permitted himself. “I will work first at this ship,” he told Drewe. “It is more convenient. On the other hand, I would wish to ensure that source material elsewhere is handled competently. I have already reported the loss of one irreplaceable record.”

Drewe nodded. “It seems that there is no possibility of agreement, let alone cooperation. Very well.” He picked up a small metal disk. “We will consider this a coin. This side with the two nicks we will call heads. The other will be tails. Professor Gench, be so good as to call heads or tails while the disk is in the air. If you call correctly you may concentrate your research on the two large ships.”

He tossed the disk.

“Heads,” called Gench.

“The coin is ‘tails’,” said Drewe. “Professor Gench, you will survey the five black and white ships. Professor Kosmin, your responsibility will be the two larger ships. This seems a fair division of effort, and neither will inconvenience the other.”

Kosmin made a guttural sound. Gench scowled and bit his lip. Neither was satisfied with the decision. With each familiar with only half of the program, a third man might be appointed to supervise and coordinate the labors of both.

Drewe said, “You both must remember that this is a survey expedition. What is required are suggestions as to how the research should be performed, not the research itself.”

Kosmin turned to examine the book he had found. Gench threw his hands in the air and strode furiously away.

V

The season seemed to be summer. Sulwen’s Star, a glittering sequin, rose far to the southeast, slanted up into the northern sky, slanted back down into the southwest, and black shadows shifted in consonance around the wrecked hulks. The construction crews erected a pair of polyhedric bubbles and the commission moved into more comfortable quarters.

On the fourth evening, as Sulwen’s Star touched the edge of the plain, Drewe called his fellow-commissioners together.

“By now,” he said, “I think we all have come to grips with the situation. I myself have done little but wander here and there. In fact I fear I am but excess baggage on the expedition. Well—as I have said before—enough of my personal hopes and fears. What have we learned? There seems a consensus that both races were technically more advanced than ourselves, though this may only be an intuition, a guess. As to their relative level—who knows? But let us have an inventory, an assessment of our mutual findings.”

The physicists expressed astonishment at the radically different solutions to the problem of space-drive reached by the three races: Man, Sea Cow and Wasp. The chemists speculated as to the probable atmosphere breathed by Wasp and Sea Cow, and commented upon some of the new metallurgic compounds they had encountered aboard the ships. The engineers were somewhat non-plussed, having noticed unorthodox systems not readily susceptible to analysis which could not be dismissed out of hand as the result of incompetence. The biochemists could provide no immediate insight into the metabolic processes of either Wasp or Sea Cow.

Drewe called for an opinion on the languages, and the possibility of translation. Professor Gench rose to his feet, cleared his throat, only to hear the hated voice of Professor Kosmin issuing from another quarter of the room. “As of yet,” said Kosmin, “I have given little attention to the Sea Cow language or system of writing. The Wasps, so I have learned from Professor Hideman and Dr. Miller, lack vocal cords, or equivalent organs. They seem to have produced sound by a scraping of certain bony parts behind a resonating membrane. Their conversation, it has been suggested, sounded like a cheap violin played by an idiot child.” And Kosmin gave one of his rare oily chuckles. “The writing corresponds to this ‘speech’ as much as human writing corresponds to human speech. In other words, a vibrating, fluctuating sound is transcribed by a vibrating, fluctuating line: a difficult language to decipher. Naturally, not impossible. I have made one very important find: a compendium or dictionary of Sea Cow pictographs referred to their equivalent in the Wasp written system—a proof, incidentally, that the work of translating both languages must be entrusted to a single agency, and I will formulate a scheme to this end. I welcome the help of all of you; if anyone notices a clear-cut correspondence between symbol and idea, please call it to my attention. I have entrusted to Professor Gench the first cursory examination of the Sea Cow ships, but as of yet I have not checked through his findings.” Kosmin continued a few minutes longer, then Drewe called on Professor Gench for his report. Gench leapt to his feet, lips twitching. He spoke with great care. “The program Professor Kosmin mentions is standard procedure. Professor Kosmin, a comparator of known languages, may well be excused for ignorance of deciphering techniques. With two such difficult languages no one need feel shame—ha, ha!—for working beyond his depth. The dictionary mentioned by Professor Kosmin is a valuable item indeed and I suggest that Director Drewe put it into safe custody or entrust it into my care. We cannot risk its abuse by untrained amateurs and dilettantes. I am pressing my search for a similar compendium aboard the Sea Cow ships.

“And I would like to announce a small but significant accomplishment. I have established the Sea Cow numerical system and it is much like our own. An unbroken black rectangle is ‘zero’. A single bar is ‘1’. A cross-bar is ‘2’. An inverted ‘u’, conventionalized perhaps from a triangle, is ‘3’. A digit resembling our own ‘2’ is the Sea Cow ‘4’. And so on. Perhaps Professor Kosmin has established the Wasp numeration?”

Kosmin, who had been listening without expression, said, “I have been busy with the work for which I was appointed: the formation and supervision of a decipherment program. Numbers at the moment are no great matter.”

“I will look over your formulations,” said Gench. “If any aspects seem well-conceived I will include them in the master program I am preparing. Here I wish to utter a testimonial to Professor Kosmin. He was urged into the commission against his better judgment, he was assigned a task for which he had no training; nonetheless he has uncomplainingly done his best, even though he is anxious to return to Earth and the work he so generously interrupted in our behalf.” And Gench with a grin and bob of the head bowed toward Kosmin. From the other members of the commission came a spatter of dubious applause.

Kosmin rose ponderously to his feet. “Thank you, Professor Gench.” He reflected a moment. “I have not heard any report on the condition of ‘Big Blue’. It seems precariously balanced, but on the other hand it has remained in stasis for thousands of years. I wonder if there has been any decision as to the feasibility of boarding this ship?” He peered toward the engineers.

Director Drewe responded: “I don’t think there has been any definite verdict here. For the present I think we had better stand clear of it.”

“Unfortunate,” said Kosmin. “It appears that the damage suffered by Big Purple destroyed that chamber which served as a repository of written materials. The corresponding location of Big Blue by some freak is quite undamaged, and I am anxious to investigate.”

Gench sat kneading his long chin.

“In due course, in due course,” said Drewe. “Yes, Professor Gench?”

Gench frowned down at his hands. He spoke slowly. “It may interest the commission to learn that aboard Sea Cow B, the ship north of Big Purple, I have located just such a repository of Sea Cow documents, though I haven’t checked the contents yet. This repository is in Room 11 on the second deck from ground level and seems to be the only such repository undamaged.”