Todd appeared, the puzzled look on his face disappearing when he saw Keezer. “Half a sec,” he apologized, and ducked back inside, reappearing with white hat firmly screwed to his head.
Peters wondered why Todd had thought the hat necessary. Then he took note of Keezer as they headed down the ladder and across the docking bay. She walked upright and kept her head up, contrasting sharply with Dreelig, who—there was no better word for it: Dreelig shambled. Todd was a lot sharper about such things than he was. He’d noticed right away that Keezer walked and acted more like…
More like themselves. The engineer even looked around, eyeing the clutter sidelong, obviously disapproving the mess. Interesting.
Keezer launched into a speech as soon as they arrived at the retarder controls, fingering a knob and going on at some length. Dreelig held up a hand to stop her, and translated for the sailors, “These consoles control the speed-retarding fields used in landing, as I told you.” The engineer babbled again, and Dreelig frowned. “Much of what she said I will not translate directly. She says that traders are sloppy and undisciplined, and most of our visitors are worse, so the retarding fields are necessary. They would not be needed if everyone were careful and observed correct procedures in approaching the ship.”
“I can relate to that,” said Peters with a grin as Todd nodded. “Tell her to go on.”
Keezer held forth, Dreelig again stopping her from going on too long. “She says that the controls are easy enough to use that even traders and aliens should be able to manage. All of the consoles are the same except Number One, which is the master. The switch here—” he paused, asked Keezer a question, then continued, “—is the master control for the system. Normal procedure is to leave the system activated at all times. This toggle controls the approach lights, right for off, center for normal operation, left for—” again clarification was necessary “—left to inform the approaching ship that it must not land.”
“Wave-off,” Peters remarked.
“The right-hand knob must be set to the mass of the approaching ship. The meter indicates the setting. The two-level knob is for the speed of the approaching vessel.” Dreelig paused, and the engineer spoke again. “She says that the controls should be set for mass and speed within one-eighth of the correct values. If they are too high, the ship may be damaged. If they are too low, the ship might pass all the way through without being halted.”
“What are the units?” Peters asked, touching a knob.
That took a while. Speed was in ultellzo, and mass was in gorz, neither of which meant anything. Keezer thought the confusion was funny; she recommended that they forget about conversions. “If you have the speed correct, the right-hand dial will show the correct mass when the ship enters. If you have the mass correct, the other dial shows speed. The combination is more important than either one, unless you have one or the other completely wrong.”
“I see,” said Peters dubiously, meaning that he didn’t. “The mass—I reckon you must mean the weight—is the important part, ain’t it?”
Keezer laughed when that was translated. “No, no, can you be that ignorant?” Dreelig was speaking in a singsong, trying to make it obvious that these weren’t his words. “Weight is what holds you down in gravity. Mass is always true, even when you are floating. You can go to the practice room and set your weight to anything you like, but you cannot change your mass.”
“Tell Keezer we’re sorry to be so ignorant,” said Peters, his tone saying he wasn’t sorry at all. “We’ve lived on Earth all our lives, and we don’t know all this space stuff.”
“In truth, I was not aware of the difference myself. Keezer thinks that is amusing.” Dreelig sighed. “I am afraid that the zerkre, the people like Keezer, they think we traders are foolish because we are ignorant of the ways the ship works. But I believe that if the zerkre tried to work as traders they would be badly cheated.” Keezer insisted on a translation of that, looked at Dreelig, and nodded. “She says that is probably true,” said Dreelig, sounding surprised. “That is the highest opinion of a trader I have ever heard from one of the zerkre.”
Keezer was amazed and angry that the airplanes had come aboard without anyone at the retard controls. “The settings are normally left on the correct ones for the small dli,” Dreelig translated. “Your people might have been seriously hurt, or even killed. They must have been coming in at relatively low speed.”
“Is that why we got two noises when each one landed?” Peters asked.
“Noises?”
“Thum, thum,” said Peters. “Like pluckin’ a string, or lettin’ a spring go.”
The engineer responded with a couple of sentences when that had been passed along, and Dreelig reported, “Yes. When the retarders are set too low, they make a noise like that when the ship breaks through. She compliments you on your reasoning.”
“Tell her thanks.” Peters paused, running a hand along the console. “We gotta get the numbers straight before we go much further.”
Keezer thought that was amusing too. “She agrees,” Dreelig reported. He hesitated. “She also says numbers are very important.”
“She’s right. Tell her I said so, and thanks a lot, and ask her if she’d be willin’ to do it again after the others get here,” Peters said seriously. “We gotta figger out how much the birds weigh, uh, mass in your system, and I ain’t smart enough for that, but we got a guy can do it, he’s comin’ up with the others.”
“That will be acceptable,” Dreelig told them. “She says she would prefer to see the system used properly, even if it means she must go to extra trouble.”
“And ask if we can buy her a drink.”
“Keezer says you are welcome for the instruction, but she must decline your offer,” Dreelig reported. “She has duties to attend to.”
Peters shrugged. “Any time.” When that was translated, Keezer smiled, lifted her arm in salute, and took herself off without further ceremony. Dreelig looked at them when the engineer was gone. “Perhaps Keezer did not want a drink, but I do,” he said.
“That”s fine, Dreelig old buddy,” Peters said, and threw an arm around the Grallt’s shoulders, the first time he had touched one of the aliens. Dreelig didn’t feel all that different from a human. “The difference is, if Keezer ain’t comin’, you’re buyin’.”
“Ah. I believe I am willing to do that,” said Dreelig, looking the two sailors over. “Let us proceed.”
“There is still something I do not understand,” Dreelig confessed when they were ensconced at a table and he had taken the first taste of his drink.
“What’s that?” Peters asked. He and Todd had also taken a first deep sip.
Dreelig made a wry face. “If your people best us in negotiations, they could profit greatly. Why do you so readily advise me how to avoid this?”
Todd kept silent. Peters set his glass on the table with a click, and leaned forward, propping himself on his elbows. “Don’t. Lump. Us. With them,” he ground out. Dreelig leaned back, seeking a little distance from the intensity, and Peters made an effort to relax a little. “Sorry,” he said in a low voice, and sighed. “All you’ve met so far’s been rich folks, besides us. Folks in the government, folks that get to go to college and learn how the world works. Reckon we’re probably the only folks you met ain’t like that.”