Star Light

“Anything changing, Captain?” Kervenser’s jocular attitude vanished at the possibility of action.

“Possibly. Stars are showing above, but not to the south. Not anywhere near the horizon, in fact. Try a spot.”

The first officer obeyed, and a spear of light flicked upward from a point behind the bridge as he touched one of the few electrical controls. Dondragmer manipulated a pair of pull cables, and the beam swung toward the western horizon. A wail, the rough equivalent of a human grunt of surprise, came from Kervenser as the descending beam became more visible parallel to the ground.

“Fog!” exclaimed the helmsman. “Thin, but that’s what’s blocking the horizon.” Dondragmer gave a gesture of agreement as he reared to a speaking tube.

“Research!” he hooted. “Possible precipitation. Check what it is, and what it could do to this water-ice under us.”

“It will take a while to get a sample, sir,” came the answer. “We’ll be as quick as we can. Are we cleared outside, or will we have to work through the hull?”

The captain paused for a moment, listening to the wind and remembering how it had felt.

“You’re cleared out. Be as quick as you can.

“On the way, Captain.”

At Dondragmer’s gesture, the first officer cut off the spot, and the three went to the starboard end of the bridge to watch the outside party.

They moved quickly but the haze was becoming more noticeable by the time the lock opened. Two caterpillar-like forms emerged carrying a cylindrical package between them. They made their way forward to a point almost under the watchers, and set up their equipment — essentially a fu

“I suppose it will take them a day to decide what it is, now,” grumbled Kervenser.

“I doubt it,” replied the captain. “They’ve been playing with quick tests for water-ammonia solutions. I think Borndender said something about density being enough, given a decent-sized sample.”

“In that case, why are they taking so long?”

“They could hardly be out of their air suits yet,” the captain pointed out patiently.

“Why should they get out of them before making delivery to the lab? Why couldn’t—”

A hoot from a speaking tube interrupted him. Dondragmer acknowledged.

“Just about pure ammonia, sir. I think it was super-cooled liquid droplets; it froze into a froth in the filter, and let quite a bit of outside air loose when it melted in here. If you should smell oxygen for the next few minutes, that’s it. It may start icing up the hull, and if it coats the bridge, as it did the filter, it will interfere with your seeing, but that’s all I can guess at right now in the way of trouble.”

It was not all Dondragmer could imagine, but he acknowledged the information without further comment.

“This sort of thing hasn’t happened since we’ve been here,” he remarked. “I wonder whether it’s some sort of seasonal change coming on. We are getting closer to this body’s sun. I wish the human crowd had watched this world for a longer time before they sold us on the idea of exploring it for them. It would be so nice to know what comes next. Kervenser, start engines. When ready, turn bow into wind and proceed ahead dead slow, if you can still see out. If not, circle as sharply as possible to port, to stay on surface we know. Keep an eye on the treads — figuratively, of course; we can’t see them without going out — and let me know if there’s evidence that anything is sticking to them. Post a man at the stern port; our trail might show something. Understand?”

“The orders, yes, sir. What you’re expecting, no.”

“I may be wrong, and if I’m right there’s probably nothing to do anyway. I don’t like the idea of going outside to clear the treads manually. Just hope.”

“Yes, sir.” Kervenser turned to his task, and as the fusion engines in the Kwembly’s trucks came to life, the captain turned to a block of plastic about four inches high and wide and a foot long, which lay beside his station. He inserted one of his nippers in a small hole in the side of the block, manipulated a control, and began to talk.

2: GRANDSTAND

His voice traveled fast, but it was a long time on the way. The radio waves carrying it sped through Dhrawn’s heavy but quickly thi

The current induced by the waves in the ante

“This is an interim report from the Kwembly. We stopped two and a half hours ago for routine maintenance and investigation. Wind was about 200 cables at the time, from the west, sky partly cloudy. Shortly after we got to work the wind picked up to over 3,000 cables—”

One of the human listeners was wearing a puzzled expression, and after a moment managed to catch the eye of another.

“A Mesklinite cable is about 206 feet, Boyd,” the latter said softly. “The wind jumped from about five miles an hour to over sixty.”

“Thanks, Easy.” Their attention returned to the speaker.

“Fog has now closed us in completely, and is getting ever thicker. I don’t dare move as I had pla

“Thanks, Don,” replied Easy. “We’ll stand by. I’ll ask our observers and aerologists whether they can make a guess about the size of your fog bank, and how long it’s likely to stay around you. They may have some useful material already, since you’ve been on the night side for a day or so. For that matter, they may even have current pictures; I don’t know all the limits of their instruments. Anyway, I’ll check and let you know.”