The captain’s closing sentence was not entirely true, though the error was not intentional. He did not really grasp how a friendship could become at all close in a short time and without direct contact between the parties; his cultural background included neither an efficient mail service nor amateur radio. The concept of a pen pal, or microphone buddy, may not have been completely strange to him — he had, after all, been with Barlennan years before when Charles Lackland had accompanied the Bree by radio across thousands of miles of Mesklin’s oceans — but real friendship was, to him, in a different category. He had been only conventionally regretful at the news of Lackland’s death years later. Dondragmer knew that Benj and the younger helmsman had been talking to each other a great deal, but he had not overheard much of their conversation and would probably not have fully understood the feelings involved even if he had.
Fortunately Benj did not realize this, so he had no reason to doubt the captain’s sincerity. However, he was not satisfied with either the answer or the situation. It seemed to him that far too little was being done specifically for Beetchermarlf; and he had only been told about this. He could not participate in it — he could not even see very much of it happening.
His feelings showed clearly enough in his next words, as far as the human listeners were concerned, and Easy made a half-completed gesture of protest. Then she controlled herself; it was too late, and there was always the chance that the Mesklinite would not read as much into the words and tone as the speaker’s mother had.
“But you can’t just sprawl there and do nothing!” Benj exclaimed. “Your men could be drowning this very second. Do you know how much air they had in their suits?”
This time temptation won. Realization of what he had said caught up with him within seconds, and in less than half a minute he had what he hoped were better chosen words on their way to Dhrawn.
“I know your doing your best, but I just don’t see how you can simply wait around for results. I’d have to go outside myself and chip ice, or something — and I can’t, up here.”
“I have done all that can be done in the way of starting rescue action,” Dondragmer’s response to the first part of the message finally arrived. “There is no need to worry about the air for many hours yet — we don’t respond to its lack as I understand you humans do. Even if the hydrogen concentration goes too low for them to stay conscious, their body machinery will just slow down more and more for several eights of hours — no one knows just how long, and it probably isn’t the same for everyone. You needn’t worry about their — drowning I think was the word you used, If I have guessed its meaning correctly.
“All tools we have are in use. There would be no way for me to help outside if I did go, and it would take me longer to get reports from Reffel through your people. Perhaps you can tell me how his search for Kervenser is coming on. I assume that nothing meaningful has turned up, since the light from his flier is still visible from here and his flight pattern has not changed, but perhaps there is description you could pass on to me — I’d like to know as much about this region as possible.”
Easy once again stifled an exclamation before it could be noticed by Benj. As the boy shifted his attention to the screen carrying the helicopter’s signal, she wondered wheter Dondragmer was merely trying to keep the youngster out of his figurative hair, or perhaps had some real grasp of the boy’s need to be busy and feel useful. The latter seemed unlikely, but even Easy Hoffman, who probably knew Mesklinite nature better than any other human being alive, was not sure.
Benj had not been watching the other screen at all, and had to ask whether anything had been happening. One of the observers replied briefly that all anyone had seen had been a surface of pea-to-house-sized cobbles, interrupted by frozen puddles similar to the one holding the Kwembly. There had been no sign of the other helicopter or its pilot. No one really expected any for some time; the search had to be slow to be complete, but if Kervenser had actually crashed this close to his starting point the accident would probably have been seen from the cruiser. The little fliers did carry lights, and Kervenser had certainly been using his.
Benj relayed this information to Dhrawn, and threw in an obvious question of his own.
“Why is Reffel making such a slow and careful search so close to you? Wasn’t Kervenser at least watched out of sight?”
“He was, Benj. It seemed more reasonable to make a complete coverage centering here and starting outward, and that would also have the advantage of providing more complete data for your scientists; but, if they can wait for the information, please order Reffel for me to fly straight west along the valley until he can just see my bridge light, and resume the search pattern at that point.”
“Sure thing, Captain.” Benj was almost gay for the moment. The conversation had been in Stennish, so none of the watching scientists had understood it; and the boy did not bother to ask their approval before passing on the order in the same language. Reffel seemed to have no trouble understanding Benj’s accent, and in due course his little machine headed west.
“And what’s happening to our map?” growled a topographer.
“You heard the captain,” replied Benj.
“I heard something. If I’d understood it, I’d have entered an objection, but I suppose it’s too late now. Do you suppose they’ll fill in the gap their leaving now, when they come back?”
“I’ll ask Dondragmer,” the boy replied obligingly, but with an uneasy glance toward his mother. She had put on the unreadable expression which he could read all too well. Fortunately, the scientist was already leaving the communication room growling under his breath; and fortunately Benj turned his attention back to Reffel’s screen before Easy lot her gravity. Several other nearby adults who had gleaned the substance of the conversation with Dondragmer were also having trouble keeping their faces straight, but Benj failed to notice.
Dondragmer’s assurance that lack of hydrogen would not be an immediate problem had helped some, but the idea of being frozen solidly into the ice was still bothersome. Even if this took longer to happen under the Kwembly’s hull, it would happen at last. It might even have happened already. It should be possible to do something.
Heat melts ice. Heat is energy. The Kwembly carried enough energy to life her out of Dhrawn’s gravity well, though there was no way to apply it to that task. Didn’t the huge vehicle have any sort of heaters in its life-support equipment which could be disassembled and used outside?
No. The Mesklinites were unlike ever to need heat on Dhrawn. Even the parts of the planet where internal heat seemed to be lacking were held up close to fifty degrees absolute by the sun; the regions they would have most to do with for many years yet, such as Low Alpha’s center, were too hot rather than too cold for them. The Kwembly did have refrigeration equipment powered from its fusion converters, but as far as Benj knew it had never been used since the original testing. It was expected to be necessary during the penetration of the central part of Low Alpha, not scheduled for at least an Earth year yet — and possibly even later; the fate of the Esket had made some of the original plans rather shaky.