He waited, there was no reply. They were, perhaps, not accustomed to talking things over.
"We've got the barge," said Barch. "My idea was to fit on some kind of air-tight balloon, net it over with cable."
There was silence. Barch looked around the table. Moses, the dwarf, threw wood on the fire. Barch said edgily, "I don't see why it wouldn't work, but I'm no spaceship engineer. Maybe somebody has a better idea."
Komeitk Lelianr said off-handedly, "Far simpler to obtain another barge, and weld the two of them face to face."
Barch sat perfectly still a moment, to make sure of himself. "That sounds like a very good idea." He paused. "There's a point to consider. In space we'll depend on the lift units for propulsion, so that we can keep to our feet. I hope for at least one gravity constant acceleration, which will bring us to light-speed-or as close as possible-in somewhere near a year. After that-I don't know. Earth scientists are convinced that light-speed is the ultimate."
Komeitk Lelianr smiled faintly. "Earth scientists have little practical experience in space-travel."
Barch continued as if he had not heard. "The point I was trying to make was, if we carry the extra mass of a second barge, can we reach that acceleration?"
"Certainly. More easily than with only one barge. You will have available the lift of both barges; they work on a positive-negative principle, like electric magnets."
Barch, a little at a loss, said, "Oh. I didn't know."
Pedratz the taffy-colored one, said, Two coils of welding tape, two hours, and two barges are one!"
Barch rose to his feet, walked outside to check on the Calbyssinians. Arn, standing alone by the doorway, gave him an aggrieved glance. Barch bent to look at the wrist watch. "Your time's about up. I'll send out your relief."
He returned within, gave the Griffits instruction, went out with them, explained the wrist watch, then came back to the table, with the feeling of returning into a chess match. He said, "Before we weld the barges together, it might be a good idea to deck over the first barge, with the effect of doubling our floor space. Also, we'd better install whatever machinery we need-the air conditioners, water condensers, the-"
Komeitk Lelianr said, "Lekthwans use a single unit, a sustenator. Carbon dioxide and water vapor are extracted from the air; water, oxygen are produced, as well as basic food-stuff. The Klau presumably employ something similar."
Barch wondered if she might be deliberately flaunting her superior knowledge. Probably not, he decided wearily; it wouldn't occur to her as desirable. He looked for Tick. "Hey, Tick-where do the Klau build spaceship sustenators?"
Tick came over the locator, twisted the nob. "That's the growing plant for the shell down there-the black and green. The final assembly is at Stalkoa-Skel, Magdkoa District, on the fourth tier. I once picked up a cargo for the space-works on Gdoa." He twisted the dial. "There, the red block."
It would be easier, thought Barch, if I weren't so darned nervous. He studied the rock-colored hulk to his right. Kerbol had no more nerves than a lizard. Ahead was the thin crouched back of Tick, piloting the raft, completely at ease, making a chirping cricket sound with his lips.
Barch looked back over the side. They flew low; under and among a stream of barges, rafts, spheres and occasional flashing snapping objects like sheets of silver lightning. Overhead rose the massive, sooty towers of Magarak, crowding the sky, crowding the imagination. Even higher, feathery trusses flickered back and forth; smoke boiled and drifted. Colored flares fumed and dazzled; the air rolled with sound: clanging, chugging, roaring, hissing.
Tick flew confidently, almost happily, as if he were in a favorite stamping-ground. Barch shook his head in wonder, giving grudging respect to a brain which so casually encompassed and accepted this appalling bedlam.
The raft halted. Tick gestured with a hand like a monkey-paw. "That's it." They hung over what appeared to be a funnel of concentric terraces, vast as a crater, shining with leaden rings of light. A great black building, diamond-shaped, hung precariously over the gap, the sharp corner reaching to the center. Pillars of green light, like thick neon-tubes, rose from each of the steps into the building.
The diamond-shaped building expanded, the funnel opened out like a target. "Hold it!" cried Barch. "Are you going to land on that roof?"
Tick waved his arm in a kind of lunatic light-hearted reassurance. "That's where the loaded barges come out; you want a loaded one› don't you?"
"That's what we want," said Barch. "Drop down and be ready to land on one as soon as it's safe."
"Safe?" Tick suddenly thought of his loss. "Nothing is safe, surety has fled; death rides one's shoulders like a brain-sucker." He turned to Barch. "Did you know that without the beach diagram, a man may not even die properly?"
"Watch that barge," said Barch unfeelingly. "It's coming out."
A barge slid up into the air, round black bosses making a polka-dot pattern in the hold. "Hell and damnation!" said Barch. "Do they ship an army corps to guard the things?"
Kerbol squinted. "A dozen Lenape, six Bornghalese guards -worse than the Podruods."
Tick slanted down. "Tell me when to land."
Barch yelled, "Pull up, you idiot! We can't kill all those men!"
Tick turned the raft off to the side in injured silence. After a moment Barch said, "We'll have to wait for the next one. How long should that be?"
Tick waved his arm. "I have no knowledge. Perhaps one hour, perhaps two. But we had better go back to the mountains; the project is impractical. Without my charm, I feel death close at my side."
"We don't go back till we get one or two of those sustenators. We can't breathe five years on a barge-load of air."
"But you do not attack," complained Tick. "The barge comes out, you draw back, you hesitate. Better to go back to Palkwarkz Ztvo and sleep."
"The next barge may have no guards on it."
"All sustenator barges carry guards. They watch the Lenape, who have grown and modulated the sustenators, and who go along to fit them into the spaceship frames."
"Oh," said Barch.
Tick pointed. "Now here comes a barge to be loaded." He looked quickly at the locator. "Rust-orange-out of Mem-pas Six, a Bornghaleze District."
Barch said, "We'll board that barge. By the time it comes back out, it'll be loaded with what we want. Sustenators and Lenape brains. Quick!"
Tick skidded the craft sidewise through the air; a trick Barch had never known the raft capable. It flipped over the rail, settled to the floor of the hold.
Barch jumped off, onto the solidity of the barge. "Come along, Tick. Kerbol, slide the raft up under the forward apron."
Barch ran lightly forward, slid open the dome. The pilot was a graceful maroon creature, handsome as a hero's mask; but, when he turned to look, Barch saw the four-point star in his eyes-Bornghalese. No occasion for delicacy. Barch shot, pushed Tick into the pilot's seat. "Take over. Fly the barge down to the sideway, then stay put in the dome. Don't come out, don't say anything! When you get a full load, start out for Gdoa."
Tick nodded, reached down, detached the dead man's assignment card, fixed it to himself. Barch seized the dead Bornghalese, hesitated. If he dragged the body back into the hold, he might be seen from the black diamond building.
"Kick him out," said Tick off-handedly. "Let him fall."
Why not? thought Barch. He opened the front portal, shoved; the maroon body flapped down through the shadows like a demon-bird.