Rebka said suddenly, “Hey. We got one.”
“One what?”
“A spectrum from that flash, one that the analyzer can recognize. We’ll finally understand what part of the surface is made of. Uh-oh. Take that back. We won’t understand.”
Ben Blesh protested, “But you just said—”
“I know what I said.” Rebka leaned back in his chair. “I can’t imagine how you knew, Darya, but you were right. What’s down there isn’t just something made by a random alien technology of the Sag Arm. It’s an artifact—made by the Builders.”
“How can you be so sure, from only one reading?”
“Because the signal analyzer is telling us. I said it recognized the return spectrum it just received, and it did. It can recognize the material, because there’s a match to a spectrum already in its library. But it can’t identify it. The part of the surface of Iceworld that produced the signal is of the same construction material used to make Phages. What is that material, Darya?”
“Hans Rebka, you know the answer to that question as well as I do.” Darya turned to face Ben Blesh and Lara Quistner. “We’ve been trying for thousands of years, and still we have no idea what the Phages—and now parts of Iceworld—are made of.”
Ben and Lara had heard about Phages—who in the local spiral arm had not?—but Darya Lang and Hans Rebka had actually seem them in action.
While the Savior flew its automated survey path over the surface of Iceworld and the ship’s computer recorded, sorted, and tried to organize all the sensor readings, Hans and Darya explained.
“As much as we know,” Darya said. “You have to remember, Phages have such a terrible reputation that you try not to go near one. The reason you will never encounter them during training is because every exploration vessel employs a Phage avoidance system. They are universal eaters. They don’t look dangerous, just a gray regular dodecahedron. Most of them are forty-eight meters on a side, but we have run across much smaller ones. The big ones can ingest something thirty meters across, and as long as you care to mention.”
“But where does it all go?” Lara’s wide-eyed gaze suggested that she and her companion were ignorant in certain important survival areas.
“No one knows. It sure doesn’t come out again, and mass detectors measure no change in the mass of the Phage. They seem able to digest anything.”
Hans added, “Or nearly everything. They can’t eat each other, or the structural hulls left behind by the Builders. We used to think that they were completely indestructible, until we saw smashed remains of some on an artificial moon called Glister in the Dobelle system. Now we know that they and some of the other Builder constructs are stabilized by powerful electromagnetic fields. If that field dies away, or you can impose a suitable counter-field, the material becomes weak. You can push your fist right through a wall of it. I know, because I did it on Labyrinth.”
Ben Blesh had been listening with the same total absorption as Lara Quistner. He looked away, to where the displays showed the laser beam from Savior steadily stitching its way across the surface of Iceworld. Every few minutes, a sensor observing the wake of the laser reported another flare of orange light. A new one had just occurred. Blesh pointed. “Do you think that if we were down there, we could penetrate below the surface by generating the right field?”
“The right field, in the right place.” Rebka had followed Blesh’s gesture. “Maybe at a place like that one. But remember, most of the surface isn’t Builder material—or if it is, it’s a type we never met before. But you are correct. Judging from our experience, if we land where we see one of the orange flashes, and generate a suitable field, we will drop through into the interior. We know how to set up such a cancellation field. I wonder if we can define one for an individual suit.”
“Of course we can.”
Ben’s answer was no surprise any more to Hans. The suits provided on the Pride of Orion were like everything else associated with that ship: miraculous, compared with anything that Hans had ever seen before. They would feed you, dispose of waste products, deal with wounds (though not the most severe kinds), and even permit a planetary return from orbit unassisted. They did everything but have sex with you, and Hans would not guarantee that.
Ben went on, “So we might as well set up cancellation fields, for our individual suits and for the whole ship. According to the sensors, they are seeing the same thing over and over again. We get either nothing at all, unless you count that weak blur of blue light, or we see a flash from a section of Builder material. If we’re going to learn anything new, we have to head down to the surface.”
It was tempting to agree at once with Ben. End the boring survey of an unchanging world from a cramped ship, and move on to where they might discover something that mattered. Hans had felt uneasy before their previous planetfall, because even prior to arrival he had feared the sight of a dead world and murdered inhabitants. Iceworld produced no such qualms. Any danger from Builder artifacts always stemmed from too much human curiosity or a total lack of common sense. He and half a dozen others, including Darya, had almost died on Quake during Summertide Maximum; but no rational creature should have been anywhere near Quake at such a time, after numerous indicators had warned of coming planet-wide violence.
Only years of experience made Hans shake his head. “We finish the survey, then if it still looks safe we go down.” He glanced at a display showing current progress, and knew his next words would not be popular. “That means two more days in orbit.”
“But—” “Two days!” “Why do—”
The response came at once from the other three. Hans cut them off. “I’m sorry. This isn’t negotiable. Ben and Lara, I know you’re impatient to have your turn and show what you can do; and Darya, I know you can’t wait for a chance to explore the interior of Iceworld. I feel the same way myself. But as long as I’m in charge, it’s going to be safety first.”
His face wore a mixture of uncertainty and bewilderment. Darya could guess the reason for that changing expression. Safety first, when there was no reason to expect any form of danger? Safety first, when Hans was as relaxed about descending to Iceworld as he ever was about anything? Why was he doing this?
But Hans was not ready to hear questions. He ducked his head, and repeated, “Two more days to complete the survey of Iceworld. Then we’ll see what else we’ve learned. And then we make a decision.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Orbiting Iceworld
As the hours wore on Hans felt the cabin walls of the Savior crowding in on him. He had established an electromagnetic cancellation field for the whole ship, and also one for each of the suits. Now there was nothing more to do and no way to escape the others. The ship moved constantly over new areas of Iceworld, but the image on the displays did not change. The other three stared gloomily at the monitors, then turned to stare accusingly at Hans. Their faces said it alclass="underline" Why are we wasting time up here? Why don’t we go down and get on with it?
They didn’t seem to realize that Hans was as keen for action as they were. He was constantly checking the progress of the surface survey, without any idea what he might be looking for. Whatever it was, he didn’t see it. Before the first sleep period arrived he lost patience—not with them, but with himself.