“At first I thought it was the wind done it,” Skua said academically. He shook his maned head. “You think we could expect a return visit from that… what did you call the thing?”
“A Droom,” Ethan replied. He ran a gloved thumb along one of the grooves in the metal. It fit snugly.
“The recordings didn’t go into detail on animal life. I don’t know anything about its habits.” He paused, staring at the rough surface of the stripped wiring running through the hull wall.
“Look, I know I wasn’t much help last night. That screaming and tearing, I—” A big hand came down on his shoulder, comfortingly.
“Now don’t you waste another thought on it, me lad. Why, that monster would’ve chilled the guts of many a dozen professional soldiers I’ve known.”
Ethan turned to face the other. “You didn’t freeze, though. Are you a soldier? Or what? We don’t know much about you, do we? We know the du Kanes, and Williams and certainly Walther, and I’ve talked about myself. What about you?”
September shrugged, turned away and stared out across the bleak landscape. The wind had blown away most of the light snow. None had fallen last night, since early evening. The endless icefield sparkled from a billion flaws, except where red-green patches of the hearty pika-pina grew. They were marooned on a diamond.
“Let’s just say I’ve seen worse than that thing,” he muttered softly. “I might also tell you, though I don’t know why I should, that I’m a wanted man. On at least four planets my head, not necessarily delivered in conjunction with the rest of my corpus, could bring you upward of a hundred thousand times ten credits.” He turned and stared down at Ethan with shining eyes, the thick frosted brows crashing together.
“What do you think of that?”
“Very interesting,” replied Ethan levelly. “What did you do?”
“That’s enough for you to know, me lad… for now. Maybe sometime I’ll tell you more.”
Ethan was a good salesman. He knew when to press for a commitment and when to change the subject. He ajudged correctly this was the right time for a change.
“What did you throw at the thing, anyway. The scream it let out was enough to chill your blood… if it wasn’t frozen already.”
“Salt,” replied September, as though they’d been talking of nothing else. “From my dinner pack. There wasn’t much of it left. But then I don’t expect the creatures on this world have much contact with it anyway, especially in the raw state and powdered.”
“I suppose they can get all they need from licking the ice,” mused Ethan, “since it’s frozen sea water. But try your tongue on it and it might never come loose. I’d have tried a brand from the fire.”
“That would have come next. The salt seemed as good a bet, and safer.”
“Safer?”
“Sure. Listen, me lad. There are worlds where fire is a lot rarer than it is on humanx-type planets. This would seem to be one. It’s only a guess, but on similar worlds I’ve seen beasties charge straight for a flame and attack it. They think it’s some new kind of enemy. A living creature. Saw one roll over and over with a burning log in its mouth. Clawing and chewing at it. The fire, not the log. If your Droom—”
“It’s not my Droom,” Ethan protested.
“—had reacted likewise, it might have charged even harder instead of backing off from that busted door. We won’t know, because the salt worked. The fire might even have attracted it. On a world like this I’ll bet plenty of animals can sense heat at a fair distance. Our fire might have put out as much as another Droom, say. Are they territorial?”
“I don’t know that, either,” confessed Ethan.
“Hard to leave much of a spoor on naked ice.” September pulled a now familiar red-green stem from a jacket pocket, started munching on it. Ethan could hear it crunch.
“Does taste rather like parsley. How does it grow so far out onto the ice?”
Ethan reached under the hood of his coat, rubbed his scalp. “As I remember the tape, the root system extends out to a certain distance, putting out branch roots and surface stems all the way. When it reaches that point, growth halts and the end of the main root begins to swell. Nutrients are delivered from whatever central land mass the plant is based on. In that way it builds up a good sized food-rich node at its far end.
“The plant puts out just enough heat to slowly melt its way through the ice. The new nodule acts as a springboard, or advance base, putting out new roots in several directions. If the roots from one node encounter another they grow together, whether they’re from the same parent plant or not. This broadens and strengthens the network, insuring survival of the whole if a central branch is knocked out.
“There’s a giant variety called pika-pedan that grows up to three and four meters high. Its nodes can grow to be several meters in diameter.”
“I see.” September hummed to himself a moment. “Then if we follow an outcropping of this weed, we’ll eventually come to land?”
Ethan smiled. “Good thought. Trouble is, there are reports from the single Commonwealth survey of green patches growing fifteen hundred kilometers and more from the nearest body of land.”
“Oh,” said the other simply. He looked disappointed. “Look, I haven’t had my breakfast. You?”
“Just some soup. I could do with something solid.” He tossed the empty cylinder out of the boat, watched it bounce and roll across the pale surface.
“Okay, after breakfast, what do you think we ought to do, leader?”
“Well,” Ethan considered, “I definitely think we shouldn’t remain here.” He looked at the other for confirmation, but the big man just stared back. He continued.
“We’re not making any progress toward Brass Monkey by sitting here. A really first-class blow could send this whole boat spinning. I think the first thing we should do is look for some more substantial shelter. Maybe a cave on a big island. You circled this one the other day?” September nodded.
“As I said then, it’s not very big. Certainly saw nothing we could use as shelter, unless we dig our own. Given the likely consistency of this frozen earth, I wouldn’t care to try.”
“Swell. After you eat, then, I think if you’d climb—”
“Climb? Uh-uh, not me.”
“All right. One of us ought to climb the tallest tree on the island and get a good look around. Maybe we’ll see something.”
“Like an ice-cream stand?”
September guffawed, slapped Ethan on the back. “A good thought, young feller-me-lad. But first I’d better get about putting something substantial in my belly. Otherwise I won’t have the strength to watch you fall.”
“Even if we should spot another body of land,” asked Colette du Kane, “how do you propose reaching it?” September worked on his oatmeal while he considered her question.
“You said yourself that walking on this ice is damned tough even with makeshift aids,” she continued doggedly. “Since there’s nothing within easy walking distance, any trek we try will measure in the kilometers. This may be swell for you, but I’m not built for cross-country hiking. And father would never make it.”
Du Kane started to protest, but she raised a hand and smiled.
“No, father. I know you’re willing, but corporate directorship doesn’t inure one to much physical hardship.”
“Something more corporate directors should note,” said September, putting down the empty container.
“Despite what you may think, young lady, I don’t relish trying such a hike myself. We’ll have to try and rig up some kind of sled. Maybe we can break loose a torn section of hull. If we could sharpen some long branches to a good point, maybe tip ’em-with metal, we might kind of pole our way along. Be slow and ugly, but better than walking. Not exactly the Intercity Central on Hivehom, but we ought to be able to take along most of our supplies.”