He kept adding equipment as thoughts occurred to him. He was genuinely concerned by now about the danger to the two explorers, and had put his own wind-mapping project well into the back of his mind.
This was unfortunate, as Molly was to point out later, though the data probably could not have been interpreted until later anyway.
Charley, without consulting anyone, had grounded the boat as nearly as he could manage to the point where Carol had attached her safety rope, but could see no sign of it through the blowing sand. He did not seriously consider emerging to make a personal search, but remained at the keys, straining his memory for any sort of handling equipment on board that might substitute for him to find the line and be sent along it to the point where the break had presumably occurred. A light left there, or even carried farther along the passage if there were no ambiguity about the path, might help the women identify the right tunnel.
Jenny, also without consulting anyone, had made another half kilometer of safety cord and was checking her armor with the intention of doing personally what Charley wanted to do by mechanical proxy. With her build, wind wouldn’t get too much grip on her, she kept telling herself; and as long as she was firmly attached to the ship itself she couldn’t blow too far even if it did. Unlike Joe, she came from a world where the concept of wind was very real to its people, and she was realistically scared; but if her friends were out of the physical touch Carol had so sensibly planned, something would have to be done. If anyone could climb that hill, it would be a Rimmore—maybe it would have to be from the upwind side, but she’d make it. Jenny checked her armor and made sure she had an extra light.
Charley knew, of course, when the air lock opened—he was preoccupied but still watching his instrument banks. His screen coverage did not include the lock area, and he wondered for a moment whether Joe had finished the mapping robot and were testing it without reporting to anyone. This seemed very unlike the Nethneen, but before Charley could decide on the propriety of interrupting work with a question, Jenny flowed into the field of one of his instruments. She was barely visible, half buried in sand, her numerous legs almost entirely out of sight as they worked her long body forward.
For just a moment her fellow student wondered about her sanity; then he caught a glimpse of the rope extending back toward the ship, bowed by the wind, and was quick enough on the uptake to grasp the whole plan before bursting into speech. When he did say anything, it was calm advice.
“If you’re just heading for Molly’s hill, Jenny, about five grads to your left would be better. If you’re hoping to intercept Carol’s rope before you get there, I’m not so sure, but would guess about as much to your right.”
“I was thinking mainly of the hill” was the reply.
“The rope would help you climb it,” pointed out the Kantrick.
Jenny had little of Carol’s impatience and superiority where Charley was concerned. “Thanks; I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose the real question is whether I’m likely to lose more time hunting for the rope in this sandstorm than I’ll save by finding it. I’ll try your shift to the right; the hill is big enough so that won’t slow me down much in getting to it.”
“Jenny, are you really outside?”
“Yes, Joe. I am not blowing away, though in this disgusting gravity I feel as though I ought to, but I have a rope connecting me to the boat if I do.”
“Please come back! The robot is almost finished, and it will carry riders. You can take it on the track of the others much more safely.”
“It isn’t tested yet. You’d better combine a test run with backing me up. You consider time important now, or you wouldn’t have dropped everything else to make that machine. If I come back and wait for you to finish it, we’ll lose more time.”
“True, of course. Very well. You or Charley please keep me informed of your progress. I’ll be outside in, at a guess, a quarter of an hour.” And in the shop, unseen by the others, handling tendrils moved even more rapidly.
“I’ve reached the base of the slope,” Jenny reported a minute or so later. “I haven’t seen or touched Carol’s rope, and I’m not going to waste time looking for it. The sand is about at its angle of repose—I can’t seem to climb it any better than Carol or Molly could—but I’m going around to the windward side. At least it won’t be blowing down in my face there. The slope should be gentler, too, and the wind itself will help me up—no, wait—here’s Carol’s rope—I can haul myself up by that. Can you still see me, Charley?” “Yes. Not clearly.”
“You tell Joe how I’m doing, then—and me as well. I get less wind trouble if I stay mostly buried, and that keeps me from seeing very far. Let me know when I’m near the top.”
“All right. Don’t bury yourself entirely.”
During the next few minutes, only Charley’s terse remarks connected the group. “You’re about halfway.” “You’re digging in too deeply—I can hardly see you.” “Are you following the rope? You seem to be working around to the other side of the hill.” “You’re getting buried again.”
“I can’t help it,” Jenny replied to the last comment. “I’m not digging in; the hill is traveling like a dune, I think. The wind is trying to move it on top of me.”
“Are you sure?” cut in Joe.
“Not sure, but it’s the impression I get. Why?”
“Never mind.” The Nethneen fell silent again.
“I hadn’t noticed that the hill seemed any closer,” said Charley thoughtfully, “but that would explain why the rope seems to be leading you around to the other side.”
“So it—Oh! I get it! Joe! Nearly done?”
“Nearly. Get to the top as quickly as you can and report what, if anything, is left of the crater. Stay there as long as you can. Charley, get distance measures of her as exactly as possible at regular intervals after she gets to the top; we may want to know how fast that hill is traveling. Jenny, just do your best to stay on the crater rim, if there still is one, until I get to you. Carol? Molly?”
“Yes.” It was the Human’s voice.
“I take it you have not found your entry tunnel and that there is no wind to guide you.”
“Plenty of wind. It led us to the wrong tunnel, which was blocked with vegetation—to classify hastily—before we got far anyway. We’ve gone back to the big cave and are checking its walls at this height for the right opening.”
“How did you know it was the wrong tunnel?”
“We were pretty sure from the beginning because it was a lot lower than we thought it should be.” It was Carol’s voice this time. “Then it became a narrow, twisty tube of rock that finally got too narrow for the robot.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Charley.
“What could you have done about it? As long as we could get back to the big cave, there was nothing to worry about. It cost us only a few minutes, anyway. But, Joe—is there any point in trying to find the original tunnel now?”
“Possibly not, but what happened to your rope may still be useful data, and your memory will give us information on how much of the way is blocked.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Charley.
“Their guiding wind has stopped. Your hill is a moving dune. They don’t hear the storm any more. Jenny, are you at the top yet?”