The captain stopped and breathed heavily. That was due, Prilicla thought, to the fact that it had been exhaling air at a controlled rate while speaking for several minutes without inhaling. For Prilicla’s sake it was trying to control its emotional radiation, which was anything but pleasant.
“Friend Fletcher,” he said gently, “our areas of authority in this situation are overlapping, so it follows that the responsibility, or the blame for it going wrong, is also divided. However, it began as a medical problem with the transfer of the casualties from Terragar, and later the two injured Trolanni from their vessel to this station where, in order to protect both sets of patients, I had to force you into taking military action in their defense. This being so, the greater proportion of the blame must fall on me…”
The other’s worry tensions were beginning to ease a little, but Prilicla could also feel an argument coming on. Unlike the Earth-human physiological classification, he could respirate and speak at the same time so he left no time for an interruption.
“… My advice would be to tell the truth,” he went on, “but omit the incident of friend Murchison’s capture and escape until a later time. Learning about it now would worry the pathologist’s life-mate, and knowing Diagnostician Conway as I do, it would come out here and…”
“He certainly would,” said Murchison softly.
“… complicate matters,” he went on. “While Conway has more than enough rank to take one of the hospital’s vessels out here, my thought is that there will be enough ships in the area as it is without another worried life-mate joining us. Keet worrying about Jasam produces enough sex-based emotional drama to go on with. I feel your agreement, friend Murchison.
“As for the rest of the report,” he went on, “be complete and factual. No doubt you will renew your warning regarding the danger of making direct ship-to-ship contact with the Trolanni searchsuit. But also warn your superiors, politely if your service career is to progress as it deserves, of the danger of well-intentioned interference by people who will have much less knowledge and appreciation of the problem than we have.
“You should also relate in detail your concerns regarding the third and much more dangerous first-contact operation that is coming up,” he went on, “the one involving the druul. As well as the opposing species being physically separated and disarmed, which will require military intervention, the Trolanni must be evacuated as a disaster-relief emergency. At a later time a similar exercise will be required for the druul as well, who, because of the bad reputation they have with the Trolanni, must be assessed for possible reeducation as candidates for membership of the Federation. You could also suggest that the advice of patients Jasam and Keet on the Trolann situation would be invaluable, providing we are let alone to continue treating Jasam’s very serious injuries and building up their trust in us.”
“But the Trolanni-druul situation isn’t the immediate problem…” began the captain.
“Of course it isn’t,” said Prilicla. “But if you give the impression that it is — that you, personally, consider these future problems to be of more importance and difficulty than our present one — this should have a reassuring effect on your superiors. If you express deep concern for and an understanding of their future problems, they should feel that you are confident about solving this one and leave us alone to get on with it without interference. As well, if they try to help with our problem, I’m sure friend Keet will be able to furnish us with more information on the Trolann situation to worry them. They might decide that every time they try to help us with our troubles, you dump an even greater problem in their laps, and desist.”
“And what do I tell them about the spider assault on the med station?” asked the captain. “Just how do I make that sound like a minor problem?”
“You tell the truth,” Prilicla replied, “but not all of it. After an initial period of misunderstanding, tell them that the spider first contact is ongoing.”
“Ongoing it is,” said the captain, “but from bad to worse. Dr. Prilicla, for such a timid, inoffensive, and completely friendly entity, you have a nasty, devious, lying mind.”
“Why, thank you, friend Fletcher,” he replied, “for listing my most admirable personality characteristics.”
Murchison and Danalta made amused sounds which did not translate while Naydrad ruffled its fur in puzzlement, but before any of them could speak, the communicator chimed and its screen lit with the features of Haslam.
“Sir,” the lieutenant said briskly, “our weather sensors indicate that the present warm front will clear the island in five hours’ time — just before nightfall, that is — and it will be followed by an extensive high-pressure system that could remain for the ensuing twelve to fifteen days. As well, there is another spider fleet of three ships closing on us. Judging by their present heading and speed, I’d say that they intend to pass south of us before morning for a landing on the other side of the island. Would you like to return to the ship?”
The question was, of course, rhetorical because the captain was already halfway to the entrance.
It came as no surprise that the attack from inland did not develop until the afternoon of the following day. By then the hot, high sun had dried off the rain-soaked vegetation, and the moment-to-moment situation as it developed on Rhabwar’s tactical screens was being relayed to the med station’s communicator with a commentary by the captain.
Naydrad was with the Trolanni patients, talking to Keet. Jasam was still deeply sedated but giving no cause for concern while Danalta was doing tricks with itself in an attempt to amuse the Terragar casualties who were complaining because they were missing their daily dunk in the ocean. Only Murchison and himself were watching developments, and the pathologist was radiating a strange mixture of dissatisfaction and guilt.
The original three ships beached near them were showing a few ventilation openings but had not lowered their landing ramps. According to the captain this was an obvious attempt to lull them into a false sense of security while a surprise attack was made from the cover of the vegetation inland. The spider force could not know — because at their level of technology, the very idea of being able to see at a distance in darkness would not have occurred to them — that Rhabwar was fully aware of the arrival of the new fleet; or that a vessel that could detect life signs in space wreckage over thousands of miles’ distance would have no trouble picking up the movements and body heat of beings crawling under a thin covering of overhanging branches.
“I hate it,” said Murchison suddenly, “when I have to watch brave, intelligent, but undereducated people making fools of themselves like this. Are you feeling godlike, Captain Fletcher?”
They heard the captain inhale sharply and Prilicla felt the sudden surge of anger that was weakened only by distance. But its voice remained calm as it replied, “Yes, in a way. I see and know everything, and like a god I have to hide the truth from them for their own good. I’d rather we stopped them before they hit the meteorite shield. They’ve already seen us creating sand eddies and pulling water into their path, and gratuitous displays of superscience can have a bad effect on an emerging culture. Magic, apparent miracles, events which contravene natural law as they know it, can give rise to new religious or drastically change existing ones so that superstition can stultify scientific and technological progress. These people don’t need that.”