The Asutra

"Do not apologize," said Ifness. "You are not known as the Lucky Little Survivor for nothing. Will you await us here, in company with the ahulph?"

"This I will do," said Fabrache.

Ifness and Etzwane set off up the valley. They rode a mile, the sandstone rising to either side in crags and juts. The valley floor widened to become a sandy flat, and here they found the hulk of the second ship. The outer skin had been rent and torn in a dozen places; one entire section had disappeared. From the gaps spewed tangled metal and viscous oozes. The top surface had been exploded into tatters, which lay scattered across the plain; the ground below showed rings of white, green, and yellow powder.

Ifness gave a hiss of vexation. He snatched out his camera and photographed the hulk. "I had expected nothing better than this; still I had hoped. What a trophy had the ship been susceptible to study! A new cosmology, in effect, to compare with our own! A tragedy to find it thus! "

Etzwane felt mildly surprised at Ifness' vehemence: such a display was unusual. They moved closer and the wrecked spaceship exerted an eerie fascination, a strange, sad majesty. Ifness alighted from his pacer. He picked up a fragment of metal, hefted it, cast it aside. He went up to the hulk, peered into the interior, shook his head in disgust. "Everything of interest is either vaporized, crushed, or melted; we have nothing to learn here."

Etzwane spoke. "You notice that a segment of the ship is missing? Look yonder in that gulch: there it has lodged. " Ifness looked where Etzwane had directed. "The ship was attacked first, perhaps, by a burst of explosive force, and then struck again, with energy sufficient to cause the melting. " He set off toward the gulch, about fifty yards distant, into which a pie-shaped section of the ship had wedged itself. The outer skin, dented and distorted but by some miracle untorn, had plastered itself across the narrow opening like a great bronze seal.

The two scrambled up the stones until they could step over to the crumpled metal. Ifness tugged at the edge of a fractured section. Etzwane joined him; by dint of straining the two bent aside the sheet to provide an opening into the hull. A vile odor issued forth: a stench of decay, different from any Etzwane had known before… He became rigid, held up his hand. "Listen."

From below came a faint scraping sound, persisting two or three seconds.

"Something seems to be alive," Etzwane peered down into the dark. The prospect of entering the broken ship had no appeal for him.

Ifness had no such qualms. From his pouch he brought an object which Etzwane had never seen before: a transparent cube half an inch on a side. Suddenly it emitted a flood of light, which Ifness turned into the dim interior. Four feet below a broken bench slanted across what seemed to be a storage chamber; a clutter of objects flung from racks lay mounded against the far wall. Ifness stepped down upon the bench and jumped to the floor. Etzwane took a last wistful look around the valley and followed. Ifness stood surveying the heaped articles against the wall. He pointed. "A corpse. " Etzwane moved to where he could see. The dead creature lay on its back, pressed against the wall. "An anthropomorphic biped," said Ifness. "Distinctly not a man; not even manlike, except for two legs, two arms, and a head. It even smells different from human carrion."

"Worse," muttered Etzwane. He bent forward, studying the dead thing, which wore no garments save various straps for the support of three pouches, one at either hip, one at the back of the head. The skin, a purplish-black parchment, seemed as hard as old leather. The head displayed a number of parallel bony ridges, originating at the top of a protective ring around the single eye and ru

Ifness saw something which had escaped Etzwane. He reached for a tubular rod, then lunged forward and thrust. In the shadows at the back of the dead creature's neck was a stir of sudden movement, but Ifness was too quick; the rod struck into a small dark object. Ifness pried the body away from the wall, struck again at the small six-legged creature who had ridden in the pouch at the back of the dead neck.

"Asutra? " asked Etzwane.

Ifness gave his head a jerk of assent. "Asutra and host."

Etzwane inspected the two-legged creature once more. "It is something like the Roguskhoi in the hard skin, the shape of the head, the hands and feet. ".

"I noted the similarity," said Ifness. "It might be a collateral form, or the stock from which the Roguskhoi derived. " He spoke tonelessly; his eyes darted this way and that. Etzwane had never seen him so keen. "Quietly now," said Ifness.

On long, soft steps he went to the bulkhead and turned his light through an aperture.

They looked along a hall twenty feet long, the bulkheads twisted and distorted. Into the far end seeped a wan daylight, filtering through overhead fractures.

Ifness strode quietly down the hall into the terminating room, holding the light-cube in one hand, an energy gun in the other.

The room was vacant. Etzwane could not imagine its function or purpose. A bench flanked three walls, with cabinets above containing objects of glass and metal to which Etzwane could put no name. The outside skin and one wall pressed onto the fractured rock, which comprised the fourth wall. Ifness glared in all directions like a gaunt gray hawk. He cocked his head to listen; Etzwane did the same. The air was thick and quiet. Etzwane asked in a low voice, "What is this room?"

Ifness gave his head a curt shake. They contrive things differently on Earth-world ships… I can understand nothing of this."

"Look there. " Etzwane pointed. "More asutra.w A glass tray at the end of the bench contained a murky fluid in which floated three dozen dark ellipsoids, like so many enormous black olives. Below, indistinct in the matrix, hung still arms.

Ifness went to examine the tank. A tube entered one of the sides; from this tube filaments led up to the asutra. They seem cataleptic," said Ifness. "Perhaps they take energy, or information, or entertainment. " He stood thinking a moment, then spoke. "We can do no more. The matter is now too large for our sole discretion, and in fact is overwhelming. " He paused to look around the chamber. "There is material here to occupy ten thousand analysts, to astound the Institute. We will return at once to Shillinsk. From the boat I can signal Dasconetta, and through him order out a salvage ship.

"Something aboard is yet alive," said Etzwane. "We ca

"A ticklish business," muttered Ifness. "What if twenty Roguskhoi burst out upon us?… On the other hand, something might be learned from a host not under asutra control. Well then, let us look. But careful and easy! We must be on guard."

He went to the area where the wall met the rock. At the center and bottom, contact was not complete, leaving irregular openings, the diameter of a man's head, through which air could pass. Etzwane peered through the center gap. For a moment he saw nothing, then abruptly a round object the size of a large coin came into view, reflecting a nacreous pink and green shimmer. Etzwane drew back, oppressed by a thrilling of the nerves. He collected himself and spoke in a low voice. It is one of the host-things. I looked into its eye.

Ifness made a curt sound. "If it is alive, it is mortal, and there is no need for panic."

Etzwane choked back a retort, and taking up a metal bar, began to attack the rock. Ifness stood back, an enigmatic expression on his face.

The rock, shattered by the impact of the ship, broke away in chunks. Etzwane worked with a furious energy, as if to distract himself. The center gap grew wide. Etzwane paid no heed and drove the bar furiously into the rock… Ifness held up his hand. "Sufficient. " He stepped forward, flashed his light into the hole, to reveal a dark, waiting shape. "Come forth," said Ifness, and gestured, his hand in the illumination.