“You’re the boss. You must have learned something about these folks, and formed some plans, so I’ll follow your lead. I don’t suppose you noticed anything pertinent about the climate and local weather, did you? I know it’s summer, of course; but is this a representative temperature? How’s the lapse rate? Did you notice anything of the prevailing winds and general cloud forms? Don’t answer — I can tell by your expression. I have my work cut out for me. Can you get hold of any locally produced weather maps, or even a decent relief map either of the continent or the whole planet?” Vickers pursed his lips doubtfully.
“The only weather maps I’ve seen are those big globes in the integration laboratory, unless the screens of those computing machines could be called maps. I think they put out their answers in terms of the squiggles you fellows deface paper with. If Deg will let us into that laboratory again, you can judge that for yourself; but I wouldn’t count on that happening. I don’t know about printed maps or charts; I’ve seen books, bound like ours, but I haven’t even tried to read their language, and haven’t seen how their books are illustrated. They undoubtedly have relief maps; if you need them in meteorology; I suppose they do too, and should have them around; but getting hold of one is something you’ll just have to pray for.”
Rodin nodded, and dropped the subject. They discussed the physical appearance of the Heklans, speculating on their probable evolutionary history; the doings on Hekla’s satellite during Vickers’ three-month absence from the interstellar ship; and every subject that occurred to them. They had plenty of time, for two of Hekla’s long days had rolled by and the sun was again in the west before Serrnak Deg appeared outside the air lock.
Vickers heard him slap the outer door with the flat of his hand, and immediately opened the lock. The pudgy being walked — in spite of his build, his motion was nothing like a fat man’s waddle — into the control room, where Rodin was waiting. The tarsierlike face showed no surprise as the big eyes took in the two Earthmen. Vickers forestalled any remarks by speaking himself.
“This is David Rodin, a meteorologist from the crew of the ship that brought me to this planetary system,” he said. “I called for him after I left you two days ago. If I had known the nature of this place, I would have arranged to have him accompany me when I came, and learn your language at the same time. I imagine you would find a member of your own profession a more interesting conversationalist than I. I shall do my best to make up for my failure by acting as interpreter — I shall have to learn more of your meteorological terms, as well as our own, if you start to talk shop. Rodin would like to see your observatory with us, if you are ready to show the rest of it to me.”
“We noticed your friend’s arrival,” replied Deg. “I regret being kept busy for so long. I will gladly show him the integration room if you wish it — perhaps he will understand our simple installations without explanation. I should be grateful for any improvements he might suggest. Do you wish to come now, or would you rather show me some of the photographic material you promised to let me see the next time I visited you?”
Vickers felt slightly nonplussed, and admitted to himself that Deg, if he were trying to be an unobtrusive hindrance to further human exploration of his observatory, could scarcely have done better. He gave the only possible answer.
“By all means stay and see the material. Dave’s arrival had driven it from my mind. The pictures are accompanied by much printed information which you won’t be able to read; but we can probably make up for that. Rodin has traveled even more than I, and can give first-hand explanations of much that you will see. The atlases are in the library to the rear of the ship.”
Vickers took care to hide his annoyance as the two men and the Heklan examined and discussed the records of the dozens of worlds that made up the Federation and the human, near-human, and completely unhuman beings that peopled them. Deg expressed surprise that his own world, so comparatively close to Earth and Thanno, the principal Federation planets, had remained overlooked while Federation sway had reached across the Galaxy and beyond to its sprawling satellites, the Magellanic Clouds. The men pointed out the vast number of stars, which rendered surveys either cursory in nature or prohibitively long in duration. A sun was likely to be investigated closely enough to detect its planets, if any, only if there were something intrinsically peculiar about the star itself, as was the case with R Coronae. Privately, Vickers wondered how soon the Federation actually would become interested enough in the giant variable to give it a close looking over.
Deg remained until sunset. By that time both the human beings were again badly in need of sleep, and the Heklan had gathered about as much knowledge of other races of the Galaxy as any one could without firsthand experience.
Vickers watched his guest through the control room port as he vanished into the still faintly crimson-lit gloom. A general glumness permeated the atmosphere of the room. Rodin waited for his companion to make some remark, but Vickers remained silent for several minutes. To the meteorologist’s disappointment, he finally retired without saying anything about the problem in hand.
Sunrise, after the five and a half hours of darkness which prevailed at this season, found both men awake, though not entirely refreshed. Rodin, owing to his brief residence on Hekla, was in rather better condition than Vickers, but even he was beginning to feel and show the effects of the excess gravity. Both men ate an enormous breakfast — Vickers’ stores were far from exhausted — and then the “diplomat” led the way out of the ship, purposefully toward the great entrance in the rock.
“If I don’t get in this time, I think I’ll give it up as a bad job,” he remarked as they approached the opening. “I’m beginning to think Deg is a little too smooth for me. I wish I were more certain of what cooled him so toward us; my present idea is just a working hypothesis, and goodness knows when it may stop working.”
The men passed into the shadowy hangar, in which Vickers had never yet seen an aircraft. No one was there; the tunnels opening into the great cavern yawned dimly lighted and empty. Vickers led the way toward the elevator, without stopping to wonder where the Heklans might be. He knew the natives would meet them before they got far.
He was right. As they turned the last corner, bringing them in sight of the elevator, a Heklan stepped from the cage. Vickers was not sure whether or not it was one of the individuals whom he had already encountered — his comparative isolation with Deg while he was learning the Heklan language had given him no opportunity to study facial or other differences between members of that race — but this specimen was far too tall to be Deg himself. His eyes were almost on a level with those of the Earthmen, while his general build was in normal Heklan proportion. He must have weighed, on Hekla, between four and five hundred pounds.
The tremendous native listened politely to Vickers’ request to see Serrnak Deg, and nodded when the man finished speaking.
“I was coming to see you,” he said. “Deg has asked me to act as your guide. He will be glad to see you whenever you particularly wish it, but routine duties of his position, which he has been rather neglecting for the past few months, prevent him from spending all his time with you from now on. He asks me to apologize for any seeming discourtesy, but I am sure you understand his difficulties. In what way can I help you now?”