Выбрать главу

“It looks like glass. Is that what it is?”

He shook his head. “No, plasteel. A form of silicon that resembles glass in some ways, but it is stronger by a factor of one hundred since the molecules have been realigned to form a single giant crystal. It is virtually unbreakable and has an edge that will never dull. Since it is silicon, like sand, it should resemble sand to any detection apparatus. That is why I am taking the chance of having it with me.”

Lea watched in silence as Brion put the weapon carefully away, arched his fingers, then stretched like a great cat. She could see the movement of his muscles beneath the fabric of his clothing, was aware of his strength that was more than something simply physical.

“I have a feeling that you can do it,” she said. “I doubt if anyone else could, not anyone else in this entire spiral galaxy. Of course I still think that the whole thing is pretty insane — although I also think that it is probably the best chance we have of finding out what is happening down there.”

His reactions were so fast; it was something she had never become accustomed to. His arms were around her before she realized that he had moved; the strength in his hands like steel inside flesh. He kissed her quickly then stepped away. “Thank you. With your understanding and belief I am more prepared now to do what must be done. Let’s go to the ship.”

There was no ceremony involved in their departure. While Lea checked the loading lists, Brion talked to the chief navigation officer, who then computed and filed a number of orbits into the lifeship’s computer for them. When the preparatory work had been done, and all the checklists completed, they sealed the hatch. As soon as the signal was received that they were ready, the computer started the program that dropped them free of the mother ship. Gas jets flared to rotate the lifeship, then the main engines fired to put them into the designated orbit. Selm-II grew larger and larger on the screen before them.

“You’re frightened,” Brion said, covering her cold hand with his large one.

“It doesn’t take an empathetic to figure that one out,” she said, shivering and drawing close to him. “This operation may have looked good on paper — but the closer we get to that planet of no return down there the more worried I get. Two good men, both of them contact experts, have been killed down there. The same thing is very likely to happen to us.”

“I don’t think so. We are tar better prepared than they were. And it is their sacrifice that has supplied us with the information that we will need to survive. There’s nothing to be concerned about at this time. You must force yourself to relax, to conserve your energy and resources for the moment when they will be needed. What we must do now is establish a low orbit and do a complete survey before looking for a place to set down. Until that time there is no danger.”

The computer broke in, giving instant lie to his words.

“I have an atmospheric craft under observation. Its present course will pass beneath ours. Should I display?”

“Yes.”

A small dot appeared on the screen moving slowly from left to right.

“Enlarge the image.”

The moving speck swelled and became a thin metallic dart with swept-back wings. “What is its speed?” Brion asked, and a display appeared on the screen. “Mach 2.6. An advanced supersonic design, product of a highly developed technological culture. At that speed it will have limited fuel. If we can keep it in sight, we might be able to see where it lands.”

Lea finished the sentence for him. “And we also may stand a good chance of finding out just what is happening on this planet.”

“Exactly …”

The image of the aircraft on the screen tilted upon one wing and dived sharply; the computer spoke in the same instant.

“There is a digital radio broadcast emanating from the displayed plane. I am recording.”

The image on the screen disappeared in a sudden explosion of flame. “What caused that blowup?” Brion said.

“A surface to air missile. I detected its course just before the explosion.”

Brion nodded grimly. “That aircraft must have detected it as well, that’s why it took the sudden evasive action.”

“And that broadcast — is it possible that the crew of the plane sent it out?”

“Yes, of course! If it was a scout ship it was in that particular area for some reason. When it was fired upon they took evasive action while reporting back to their base. And unless I am mistaken — here comes the response now.” Brion pointed to the track suddenly displayed on the screen. “A ballistic missile, probably targeted on the ground defence missile site below. The war is still going on. So we know two more places where we don’t want to go.”

“The target site below — where something has just blown up with a spectacular explosion — and also the place where that missile was launched from that did all the damage.”

“Exactly. Until we know what is happening on this planet we want to stay as far away as possible from any war zones. Now let’s see if we can find some of those animals that Hartig spotted. We can be reasonably sure that they will keep well away from any battles or moving machinery. They took off when Hartig’s ship landed, and I imagine they will stay as far away as possible from anything mechanical.

They found the site they were looking for on the eastern shore of the gigantic lake that they named the Central Sea. Moving dots were scattered over the grass plains that stretched from the foothills all the way to the lake shore. Under the highest resolution of the electronic telescope, it could be seen that these were grazing animals of some kind. The location of the herd was recorded as well as other herds along the shore. There appeared to be predators as well; they saw one group fleeing in panic from what appeared to be larger and faster pursuers. But in all their searching they found absolutely no sign at all of any kind of civilization.

“That’s the area where I would like to drop,” Brion said. “On the plain where all the herds are.”

“What do you mean when you say ‘drop’? Aren’t we going to land this lifeship?”

“No. That’s the last thing we want to do. You saw what happened to that aircraft. We don’t want to get into radar range and alert their missiles. So I am going to compute a ballistic orbit that will drop me into the atmosphere at the correct spot.”

“Won’t it hurt just a little bit when you burn up, after impacting all that air waiting for you down there?”

Brion smiled. “I appreciate your concern. I’ll be wearing a gravchute that will slow my fall. I’ve also removed all of the unessential metal fittings from the pressure suit, even substituted a plastic oxygen tank. There is only the slightest chance that I can be detected by ground radar — particularly since the area we have picked seems to be clear of constructions of any kind. As soon as I hit the ground I’ll get rid of the gravchute along with the rest of the space gear.”

“But you’ll be stranded!”

“Hardly. I’ll be in communication with you.”

“Will you? Then you have invented an all-plastic radio?” Her attempt at humour failed dismally; there was only concern in her voice now.

“I intend to use these,” Brion said, pulling a length of collared cloth from the pack at his side. “I’ve worked out a simple code. When I spread these panels on the ground you’ll be able to see them clearly from space. As soon as I am down and it is daylight, I will lay out a message for you. As I move about I’ll send you regular messages so you will know everything that is happening.”