“The question is not whether they can stand it, but whether it will cause them discomfort. That would be plenty to squash the whole idea, unless they have a collective personality appallingly different from ours. In any case, the proposition will have to be presented delicately. We shall hold more discussions with Marn or Deg or any one else who will listen to us, provided he is a meteorologist; and I think it will be possible to build up to the subject, while describing our mechanical abilities and history and so on, in such a way as to make him think it’s his own idea. The plan certainly has possibilities, Dave. We’ll eat, and you’d better sleep, and then we’ll have another session in the observatory. Sound all right?”
Rodin agreed that it sounded all right. It was just bad luck that Marn Trangero didn’t.
The conversations seemed to steer themselves in the way Vickers desired, for several hours. They ran from subject to subject, dealing with matters connected with the Federation whenever Trangero held the conversational initiative, and veering back to things Heklan when Vickers could get control. The Earthmen learned of the lives of the half billion Heklans scattered among the equatorial islands of their planet; of their commerce, their science, their arts — but nothing of their wars, except against their environment. Casual references to feats of physical strength and resistance to cold, heat, and hunger made the human beings blink, but partly reassured them of the creatures’ ability to stand slight modifications of their atmosphere.
The Heklan learned of the doings of the natives of the scores of worlds whose co-operating governments called themselves the Federation. Vickers censored carefully the more drastic references to strife, though he did try to make clear the more harmless aspects of a competitive culture. If he had known the mechanics of atomic converters and second-order drive units, Marn would probably have wormed the information from him; the creature was at least as acute a questioner as Vickers. The man was slowly realizing this fact, though he had originally believed that the giant had been chosen as their companion principally for his physical qualities. He wondered, as he strove to lead the talk to climate and the possibility of Federation science’s improving it for Hekla, whether the bulky being were not laughing silently at his attempts. It was a demoralizing suspicion, which success did nothing to allay; for the “success” came with suspicious rapidity after he set to work in earnest.
He had introduced the story Rodin had told him of the undertaking to modify the climate of their home planet; and Marn had appeared extremely interested, asking for a description of the results. Then he asked for a comparison of the normal climates of Earth and Hekla. It was this request that Vickers misconstrued as success for his efforts. With rather good salesmanship, he decided to break off the discussion at this point, pleading the usual fatigue — they had been talking for several hours. Marn, he felt, had conceived the desired idea and should grow more enthusiastic if allowed to mull it over for a few hours. Vickers had become enthusiastic himself, which was a pity.
When they next met, Vickers felt happier than ever; for Main’s first words were a request for the method the Earthmen had employed to modify their climate. He asked, politely enough not to give offense, that Vickers translate Rodin’s explanation rather than attempt to give one of his own; evidently he wanted precision. Vickers assented gladly. Rodin had found some details of the operation in Vickers’ library, and was able to add much more from his own memory; so for half an hour he and Vickers alternated relation and translation, while the absorbed Heklan listened silently, his round face showing no expression that Vickers could interpret.
“An absorbing tale,” Trangero said when the Earthmen had finished. “I applaud the ingenuity of your meteorologists and astronomers. I have seen no maps of your planet, but I gathered that much of its land area is in the middle latitudes, as is the case with Hekla. An operation such as you have described would open to us millions of square miles of land areas which at present we can use only in summer and autumn, if at all. It is a pity that it would not be effective on this planet.”
For a moment Vickers sat, stunned by the Heklan’s matter-of-fact remark.
“Why would it not work here?” he finally asked. “I have gathered that carbon dioxide is no more dangerous to you than to us; and it should be as effective a blanketing agent here. I realize the enormous thickness and extent of your ice caps, but even they would eventually yield to a general increase in temperature.”
“Undoubtedly they would,” replied Marn. “Unfortunately, your plan remains unworkable. In the first place, the atmosphere of this planet already contains approximately one and a half percent of carbon dioxide. More would not harm us, but neither would it help. You have forgotten something, which Rodin should have remembered if he knows as much of astronomy as our science requires. Our sun is much redder than yours; and an increase in the atmospheric content of any infrared opaque gas such as carbon dioxide, ozone, or water vapor would cut out nearly as much additional incident radiation as it would retain the natural heat. I admit there would be some gain, but to make it enough to be a real help would demand a radical change in our atmosphere. You are working under different conditions here than you met on your own world, and your meteorology will not help us.”
Vickers thought furiously as the Heklan fell silent. Rodin, who had not understood a word of the last conversation, realized from his friend’s expression that something had gone seriously wrong. He tapped Vickers’ shoulder to gain his attention, and asked for an explanation. It was given to him.
“Is he right, Dave?” asked Vickers, at the end. “Surely there is some modification of that trick that would work for this world. I hate to give up that idea.”
“I can’t, on the spur of the moment, think of anything that would serve,” replied Rodin, “but it seems to me that there must be some fairly simple solution. If necessary, we can call in one of the physics or chemistry boys, though I don’t like to do that. I’d advise you not to appear too perturbed about the matter — after all, this was supposed to be one of Marn’s suggestions. Just let the conversation ride on for an hour or two, and we can talk it over at dinner.”
Vickers recognized the soundness of this bit of advice, and endeavored to abide by it. He was never sure that Marn had not noticed and interpreted the symptoms of annoyance the Earthman must have shown; but the creature never gave any indication of realizing what had occurred.
The rest of the morning was spent in answering his questions about beings and events beyond the R Coronae system.
In spite of his promise, Rodin said practically nothing at dinner; and immediately after the meal he repaired to the library. Vickers followed, and occupied a seat well out of the meteorologist’s way. Silence ensued, broken only by the rustling of paper and the occasional scratch of a stylus in Rodin’s hand. Vickers neither wrote nor read; he sat and thought, while his friend worked. In his own way, he also was working.
Presently Rodin looked up. “Marn is a bright specimen, no doubt,” he said, “but he went a little too far when he implied that our knowledge of meteorology would not be helpful here. There are plenty of ways to alter climate in any direction you please, and some of them must be applicable to this planet. Of course, we want methods which will require the use of plenty of heavy machinery, so that we can sell them the equipment; but that doesn’t narrow the field much, when one is working on a world-wide scale.