Lawri turned a valve. Brown water oozed from the aft wall, formed a growing globule.
"It's mud!" Merril said in disgust.
Lawri said, "We put pond water in. The carm breaks the pure water into hydrogen and oxygen, but it leaves the goo behind. Every so often we have to clean it out. That's why there's an eject system, and you can be damn glad of it."
"We can't drink that stuff. We should have picked up Minya's water supply."
"Say that if we live long enough to get thirsty." Lawri took the gourds and filled them from the brown globule. Merril winced, watching each of their water gourds become fouled.
Lawri went forward with the gourds. Would she plug the leak with mud? He could do it himself, now, if Lawri balked; but he wanted her on his side, as far as that was possible.
Lawri squeezed muddy water along the rim of the bow window.
Mist showed outside. The glass began to frost. The water stayed where she put it, in a long brown bubble. Over the next several minutes-while Lawri alone watched the controls-the water dwindled and thickened to a darker brown. Presently it began to turn hard.
Clave said, "Grad? Is it working?"
The Grad had read of ice. It was no more real to him than the liquefied gases in the tanks. He looked to Lawri.
Lawri met his eyes and said, "I will not accept the position of Scientist's Apprentice."
After such a performance, was she quitting on them? Clave spoke first, and in haste. "I'm certain there's room in Quinn Tribe for two Scientists. Especially under the circumstances."
"I've saved you. Now I want to go home to London Tree. That's all I want."
She's earned it, the Grad thought, but— Clave said, "Point to it."
The carm was nose-down to the Smoke Ring. Closest was the storm pattern that surrounded and cloaked Gold, a turbulent spiral of cloud, humped in the middle. The whole pattern drifted west at a speed that looked sluggish, but must be quick beyond imagination. The arms of the Smoke Ring reached away in both directions. They could see the flow of cloud currents, faster toward Voy, drifting backward near the carm. Minor details-like integral trees-were invisibly small.
"You're the Scientist," Clave said. "Could you get us back to London Tree?"
Lawri shook her head. She began to shiver; and once begun, she couldn't stop. Minya got her the last of the ponchos and they wrapped it around her, then tied a strip of cloth round her head and throat. She said, "We're not losing air anymore. Leave the humidity up and we won't get thirsty so fast. Jeffer, I'm cold and tired and lost. I can't make decisions. Don't bother me."
They weren't human.
Kendy had watched them for a bit. They had the temperature turned far down. Kendy was going to fix it, until he realized that the lowered temperature had slowed the leak.
They must have kept some of the old knowledge. But the cold was killing them too. He watched the really strange ones succumb first and crawl into a ball to wait for their deaths.
The CARM's medical sensors indicated a corpse and twelve citizens, not one of them quite normal. One had no legs. If lethal recessive genes were appearing in the Smoke Ring, it might point to inbreeding. Otherwise they seemed healthy. He saw no scars or pockmarks, no sign of disease-which was reasonable. Discipline had carried none of the parasites or bacteria that had adapted over the millions of years to prey on humanity. They didn't even show the sores that came with insufficient bathing.
The abnormal height, the long, vulnerable necks and long, fragile fingers and long, long toes, must be evolution at work, an adaptation to the free-fall environment.
He would have his problems, bringing these back into the State. In its way this small group was a perfect test sample. He could make his mistakes here and never pay a penalty. In time the CARM would be found by other savages.
Time to make his appearance.
Lawri was eating raw salmon bird, clearly hating it, but eating. Jayan and Jinny had gone aft to join the clustered Carther States warriors. It looked like fun, the Grad thought wistfully; but he was needed here.
Something was happening to the bow window: a pattern like a colored shadow, occluding the view.
"Lawri? Have you done something?"
"Something's wrong…I've never seen anything like…" she trailed off.
The carm was silent. A ghostly face filled the bow window. It took on color, huge and transparent, with the storms around Gold showing through.
It was brutal, with bushy brown hair and brows; thick brow ridges and cheekbones; a square, muscular jaw; a short neck as thick in proportion as a man's thigh. A face that resembled Mark's or Harp's. A gigantic dwarf. It spoke in Voice's voice.
"Citizens, this is Kendy for the State. Speak, and your reward will be beyond the reach of your imagination."
The passengers looked at each other.
"I am Sharls Davis Kendy," the face said. "I brought your ancestors here to the Smoke Ring and abandoned them when they made mutiny against me. I have the power to send you into Gold, to your deaths. Speak and tell me why I should not do so."
Too many were looking at the Scientists. Was this some trick of Lawri's? The Grad could feel the hair rising in a halo around his head but somebody had to speak. He said, "I am the Quinn Tribe Scientist—"
"And I am the London Tree Scientist," Lawri said firmly. "Can you see us?"
"We are lost and helpless. If you want our lives, take them."
"Tell me of yourselves. Where do you live? Why are you of different sizes?"
The Grad said, "We are of three tribes living in two very different places. The three tall ones—" He kept talking while his mind sought a memory. Sharls Davis Kendy?
Lawri broke in. "You were the Checker for Discipline"
"I was and am," said the spectral face.
"The Checker's responsibility includes the actions, attitudes, and well-being of his charges,'" Lawri quoted. "If you can help us, you must."
"You argue well, Scientist, but my duty is to the State. Should I treat you as citizens? I must decide. How did you come in possession of the CARM? Are you mutineers?"
The Grad held his breath…and Lawri said, "Certainly not," contemptuously. "The carm belongs to the Navy and the Scientist. I'm the Scientist."
"Who are the rest of you? Introduce me."
The Grad took over. He tried to stick to lies he could remember, naming the copsiks of London Tree — Jayan, Jinny, Gavving, Minya — as London Tree citizens; Clave and Merril as refugees who had become copsiks; himself as a privileged refugee; the jungle giants as visitors. Too late, he remembered Mark tied motionless in his chair.
"Now, Mark is a mutineer," he said. "He tried to steal the carm."
Would the dwarf brand him a liar? But the rest would back him up except Lawri…Mark let his eyes drop. He looked sullenly dangerous.
Sharis Davis Kendy began to question Mark. Mark answered angrily, belligerently. He created a wild tale of himself as a copsik barred from citizenship by his shape; of trying to steal the carm by activating the main motor, hoping to immobilize all but himself, then finding that the ferocious thrust left him as helpless as the rest.
The face seemed satisfied. "Scientist, tell me more of London Tree. You keep some who are barred from citizenship, do you?"
Lawri said, "Yes, but their children may qualify."
"Why does a tree come apart?" the face asked, and "How does London Tree move?" and "Why do you call yourself Scientist?" and "Are many of you crippled?" and "How many children do you expect to die before they grow to make children?" It wanted populations, distances, durations: numbers. Lawri and the Grad answered as best they could. With these they could stick close to the truth.