Suddenly he jerked his hands away as a burst of emotion exploded from the crew member at the other side of the control center. In spite of the distance it was strong, sharp, intensely uncomfortable, but brief. It faded within a few seconds and so, thankfully, did the accompanying feelings of anger.
“What happened?” said Fletcher sharply. “You jerked your hands away. Are you hurt?”
“No,” Prilicla replied; then after a moment’s thought he went on, “I must have joined two of the wrong wires. It made the survivor, maybe both of them, very uncomfortable for an instant. The emotional radiation was characteristic of a sharp, unpleasant sensation, as if someone was to cross our optic nerve with our aural input then make a loud noise. Sorry, I’ll have to be more careful.”
The captain exhaled loudly and said, “Yes. But it was a natural mistake because all the wiring in that loom has the same color-coding with subtle variations in shade. The magnifier’s enhanced imaging barely picks them up but your unassisted vision can’t, good as it is. Next time hold the wire ends to be joined where I can see them clearly for my okay, then, if it doesn’t cause an adverse reaction, shield the other wires from it while you spray on the insulation. That way you won’t risk a bared, spliced length making contact or short-circuiting against an adjoining bare wire. Tell me if you’ve any doubts or problems about anything you intend doing, Doctor, otherwise carry on. I think you’re getting there.”
Prilicla carried on while the captain furnished technical and moral assistance. There were no more accidents, but there was an increasing level of emotional radiation emanating from the survivor on the undamaged section of the control center. It was not the sharp reaction characteristic of sudden discomfort, but a mixture of fear and hope so intense that his empathic faculty received it almost as a physical pain. Then suddenly there was a double explosion of feeling that made him pull back because his whole body, as well as his hands were trembling. Slowly he moved to the the inner door that he had not been allowed to enter and placed his stethoscope against the bare metal.
“Doctor, you’ve got the shakes,” said the captain urgently. “Is there anythingwrong with you? What’s happening?”
“Nothing is wrong with me,” said Prilicla unsteadily as he sought for his customary clinical calm. “To the contrary, friend Fletcher. The two survivors are now communicating with each other, presumably via the repaired circuitry. I’m trying to pick up their language sounds, with a view to programming it into our translation computer, but I can’t hear anything. Possibly there is not enough air to conduct sound or their speaking and hearing organs are enclosed in some kind of helmet.”
“Almost certainly that is due to their control sections losing internal pressure,” the other said excitedly. “How are they feeling now?”
“At present their emotional radiation is complex and confused although it is beginning to clear,” Prilicla replied as he tried to describe feelings that could not be adequately conveyed in mere words. “There is a combination of relief, excitement, and concern that is due, I feel sure, to the reestablishment of interpersonal communication and the up-to-the-minute exchange of information. That information would include the first survivor’s reaction to the things we have been doing for it as well as a description of the physical condition of the second survivor which, my empathy tells me, is not good. Something will have to be done for the second one as a matter of clinical urgency. Underlying the emotional radiation from both sources, but still strong enough to be unmistakable, there are feelings of gratitude.”
“Good!” said the captain. “If they’re feeling grateful then they must know that you’re trying to help them. But do you think they’re ready to to trust us, all of us, after your good deed?”
Prilicla was silent for a moment as he concentrated on the two sources ofemotional radiation, one of them attenuated with distance and the closer one faint because of physical weakness and distress, then he said, “There is still a persistent background fear in both entities that is due, I feel sure, to the fact that both of them are now aware of the presence of their feared and hated DBDG bogeyman. I may be wrong because I’m am empath, rather than a telepath, but I feel that they aren’t yet ready to make friends with their worst nightmare. Something more must be done to help gain their trust, and my good deed has yet to be completed.”
The captain did not ask the obvious question because it knew that the answer was forthcoming. Prilicla went on. “My close-range analysis of the second survivor’s emotional radiation indicates that its body is so debilitated that it barely retains the ability to think coherently. There is increasing physical discomfort, combined with a feeling of urgency and intense, personal fear that is characteristic of a being who is close to terminal suffocation, or dehydration, or both. To complete our good deed more repairs are needed, to restore their air and working fluid supply.”
“So now you’ve delusions of being a plumber as well as a electrician,” said the captain, and laughed. “Right, Doctor, what exactly will you need?”
“As before, friend Fletcher, I need directions,” Prilicla replied, “because I have no idea how to proceed. But first I want to show the robot, who is the eyes for at least one of the survivors the sections of damaged piping that I’ll be trying to repair or replace. While I’m doing that, you can assess the situation and tell me what needs to be done and how to go about doing it using replacement material and basic, non-powered tools from Rhabwar.
“Also,” he went on, “I’ve noticed traces of vapor around some of the fractured piping in here, indicating the escape of residual atmosphere or moisture although it could, I suppose, be the remains of a toxic fluid used in a hydraulic actuator. While you’re assessing the repair requirements with me, I’ll bag samples and use my medical analyzer on it. If it is air or water rather than something toxic, please reproduce it in bulk and send it over in transparent containers. If the containers are marked with the same color-codings as that of the supply pipes we’re going to replace, that might further reassure the survivors. Leave everything loosely tethered to the hull where I came on board for me to pick up.
“We’ve fixed it so that they can talk to each other,” he ended, “but the conversation will be short if one of them stops breathing.”
The next two hours he passed surveying the repair job, identifying the color-codings, and isolating the fractured piping to be joined. He knew that the work would be less delicate than splicing the damaged wiring, but the captain had grave doubts about his ability to perform it.
“This isn’t anything like brain surgery, Doctor,” it said. “What you’ll need is brute force rather than delicacy of touch. Your digits were never made to handle manually-operated metal-cutters, the only kind these people will allow near them, and heavy spanners. And your body is far too fragile to exert the leverage that may be required. A pair of Earth-human hands with muscular backup are needed for this job. I should be in there helping you.”
Prilicla did not reply, and the captain went on quickly, “I’ll run another external visual for them, the one showing ship repairs being carried out simultaneously by several different species including Earth-humans. After what you’ve already done for them, they might be more inclined to forget their DBDG phobia enough to trust me a little. I’ll wear a lightweight suit, with no powered instruments other than the radio and a small cutting torch, and carry the piping and tools in transparent containers as you suggested. Working together the repairs will take a fraction of the time you’d need otherwise, and if one of them is running out of air…”