"Hey," Stan said, suddenly cheered. "Maybe we can. Well, what about getting a little sleep? Which box shall we use?"
"We'll each use our own," she said firmly. "I don't know if you've noticed, but there's no lock on the door."
Extremely Wet Planet in Binary Yellow-White System was exactly what it was advertised to be. That is, it was definitely wet. At least ninety percent of its surface was ocean, and even the three great land masses of the planet were dotted with large lakes.
There were three separate human colonies on Extremely Wet Planet, all on the largest of the land masses and two of them on the shores of its largest lake, making it easy for the little aircraft that was waiting for them to make the rounds. The aircraft itself had room for a dozen passengers, though only Stan, Estrella and Achiever boarded it. Stan was a little perplexed when he could not find any external sign of either jets or propellers, but, once inside, was pleased to note that nearly half the passenger perches had been ripped out and replaced with seats more congenial to human anatomy. "Is mostly human persons who use this vehicle," Achiever informed him. "They average to have sixteen to twenty-four new residents each day, number which appears to be increasing. Sit now, please. Aircraft is to become airborne."
When the engines started, Stan could hear them, all right. They screamed and yowled. When they were at their loudest the aircraft gave a sort of shudder, and then a leap, and then Stan could see the ground dropping away from them. What he could see was not much like what he would have seen from a plane on Earth: no cultivated fields, no cities. If there were Heechee communities below, as there surely were, they were by Heechee habit mostly underground and thus invisible.
There was plenty of water to see, shining serpents of rivers and tree-shaded, mirror-like ponds. But Stan tired quickly of streams and lakes. He felt his eyes closing, but just as he fell asleep the aircraft twisted and dropped worrisomely, and all at once they were landing by the largest lake yet.
They were met by nearly the total population of this newest human community, amounting to no more than a few hundred people. They were glad to have visitors, if a bit disappointed to learn that they weren't going to stay. The group, they told Stan and Estrella, had recently left Peggys Planet because it was too crowded. At least, that was what Stan understood, with difficulty, from the babble the settlers offered him. They were not easy to talk to. The fact that they were recent arrivals to the Core meant that the Outside they had left behind was not much like the one Stan and Estrella had last seen. The English language had absorbed a great many loan words in the many centuries that had passed Outside, not only of Chinese, Arabic, Polish and other human languages but some that might originally have been Heechee. Or might not.
Achiever was as baffled as they. "This perhaps is language," he admitted, "but cannot personally at all understand. You, Stan? Have spoken this talk with these persons?" When Stan shook his head, Achiever gave the breathy Heechee equivalent of a sigh. "Perhaps best go on to next place," he said moodily. "This does not begin optimally well."
The next group was Greek, and they had been in the Core for nearly twenty days, long enough to be planning to start construction of a church and a school. What they didn't have was many English speakers. The one they called in from the fields, where he had been planting olive saplings, was quite good, though, having got much of his education at MIT. But there hadn't been much need for a civil engineer in the Greek parts of the island of Cyprus, where they had come from. "Because of the Turks," he told them, shaking his head. "All the time having babies and babies and babies. We were being squeezed right out of the island, so we left."
Estrella frowned at that. She whispered to Stan, "But weren't you—?"
"Not really," he whispered back. "But let's get out of here."
The people of the third colony were Asian—mostly Chinese and Korean—and what they had in plenty, courtesy of Marc Antony, was food that Stan and Estrella didn't always recognize but definitely could enjoy. That wasn't all. "Would you stay on for a while?" the woman who greeted them asked, almost imploringly. "No? That is sad. Anyway, would you like some more dim sum?"
They would, would in fact have gladly stayed on for at least two or three more meals, but Achiever announced he had a schedule to meet. "Anyway," he said sunnily, "is good progress. One planet visited, four yet to come. Is not this excellent fun?"
Well, it was more or less fun, even Stan had to admit that. Estrella, not in the least tired or queasy, thought so as well although she would have liked to see more of Salt, if only to compare notes on early pregnancy. That Achiever did not permit. "I ask you question: What are three necessities for becoming excellent pilot like self?" he demanded. "I answer in this fashion: Training. Training. And also training." So he kept Salt's nose to the grindstone, flying the ship when they were in space, remaining aboard it for safekeeping (against what possible imaginary danger he did not say) when they were planetside. "But," he added generously, "am insuring this creates no hardship for yourselves, Estrella and Stan, since you already have adequate companionship for voyage in myself."
Small but Dense Planet of Bright Yellow Star Eighty-Three once more demonstrated the Heechee commitment to truth in advertising. As they landed Estrella complained, "There's something funny about that ocean, Stan!" What was funny was that its horizon was definitely a lot closer than either of them had ever seen before. However the planet's human inhabitants, though few in number, were welcoming—almost pitifully so, Stan thought, because settling on this not particularly pleasant little world offered few incentives to newcomers. All two or three hundred of the immigrants came out to greet them, and immediately offered a meal as well.
Small but Dense Planet began to look a lot better to Stan, but Achiever was restive. "Is dallying quite sufficiently," he said. "Return at this point to spacecraft for immediate departure."
Stan swallowed his mouthful of undifferentiated CHON-food. "What the hell for? We just got here!"
"Nevertheless," Achiever said, unmoved. "Such is my intention."
Estrella was more tactful. "But really, Achiever, this is a whole planet and all we've seen is this one little corner—"
"Remaining corners of no additional interest. I remind you! I am captain commanding spacecraft and thus also of landing parties of all natures. Also desire to determine if junior copilot of spacecraft is appropriately discharging duties as assigned."
Estrella gave him an indignant look. "You mean you want to spy on her?"
Achiever didn't answer. "No further discussion. We return at present time!"
Then, as they entered the ship, Stan began to suspect that Achiever's doubts had been justified.
Salt was not at her post at the controls. No one else was there, either. The operating chamber was empty except that someone had moved that unexplained hexagonal blue box into it. Achiever was fit to be tied. "Not only not present but having littered chamber for operating spacecraft as well! Oh, how very bad will be this blot on junior copilot's record! Now must seek her out for reproving and discussion of faults!"
Estrella held back. "Wait a minute, Achiever. Where are we going?"
He stamped his foot, his belly muscles writhing. "You persons must not delay exercise of authority. Why are you delaying same? We go to sleeping place of junior copilot, which is where she may be when not in operating chamber. Come!"
But he had taken no more than a few steps when he stopped, standing rigid. The tiny hairs at the base of his skull sprung erect and he seemed to be sniffing the air.