“He didn’t give you any orders, Liddy. Would you help me?”
“Of course. But don’t expect me to build anything.”
“I don’t. Just give me a hand bringing the L-section of tube over to this ship when it’s finished, and help me put it into position.”
“I can manage that. I’m stronger than I look. You should try me some time.”
She grinned at Bony through her visor and flexed her arm muscles. Even within the bulky suit, she seemed slim and graceful. Bony turned away so that he wouldn’t look like he was staring. Not sure what to say, he started back toward the Mood Indigo . Liddy came close behind, followed by the bubble people.
“Why are they following us?” she said. “And what made them lead us over to that ship? We still don’t know.”
“Because we can’t talk to them. Maybe you could have another try with the translator, while I’m building the airlock adapter.”
“I’m certainly willing. But the first try was a total failure.”
“That was Indigo’s fault. He was too impatient. The translator has a big learning component. When the languages are far apart, you need long samples of both before it can make sense of them.”
They had reached the Mood Indigo . Liddy unhooked the translator from its temporary storage on the side of the ship, strapped it at her side, and turned to face the advancing bubble people. Bony, worried about her being outside alone, waited until the advancing group had peacefully settled down a few meters from Liddy. Then it was back into the lock for him — he felt he had been away weeks — and down to the lower level where spare materials were stored. Indigo was noticeably absent, hiding away in his upper-level private quarters. A definite blessing. Bony dragged what he needed through to the cargo hold. It wasn’t the most convenient place to do the work, but what he had to build was so big that there was no other option. It would be a classic blunder, make something and then find you couldn’t get it out of the ship.
The job itself was straightforward; almost too straightforward. At first Bony found it hard to keep his mind on it, and after a few minutes he went up a level so he could stare out of a port and make sure that Liddy was all right. She was talking, then listening intently to the output of the translator. The bubble-creatures had not moved, except that their spokesman had floated forward and now hovered near Liddy half a meter off the sea floor. The gill slits pumped and pulsed. Reassured, Bony went back to work.
His task took time and patience. What he had when he was finished formed a great curved tube of transparent plastic, an inverted L-shape over two meters across and seven meters long. The upper end was designed to fit around the outer hatch of the Pipe-Rilla ship and seal to its hull — or to anything else in the known universe. For the moment, Bony was not going to worry about getting it off again. The adhesive, ironically, had been produced using a chemical process given to humans by the Pipe-Rillas. Maybe they also knew a solvent.
Bony lifted the tube. In the low gravity of Limbo it was not heavy, but it was so big and awkward that it was close to unmanageable. Getting it out of the cargo hold would be tricky. He dragged the L-tube to the edge of the cargo bay, sweating and swearing. When he was almost there, Friday Indigo appeared at the upper level and stared down at the struggling Bony. He did not offer to help, but asked, “Where’s Liddy?”
For the past half hour Bony had not been thinking about Liddy at all. He felt a bit guilty as he said, “Outside. Trying to talk to the bubble people.”
“Huh. Fat chance. She doesn’t know a thing about translation units.”
“I suppose not. Do you need her back in here?”
“No. I don’t need either of you. As soon as you get that piece of junk out of the way I’m going to take the Mood Indigo up to the surface for a look round. I expect I’ll be gone for a few hours, so try not to do anything too stupid.”
“Are you interested in the thing that we thought might be a Link entry point?”
“Could be.” That was apparently as much as Indigo intended to say about his exploration plans. He turned away and added, “Get that lump of garbage outside. I want to start the thrustors as soon as you’re clear.”
Bony thought of half a dozen rude answers, said nothing, and set to work to flood the cargo bay. Let Indigo worry about getting the water out again. He pushed the awkwardly shaped tube over the lip and allowed it to tumble to the sea floor. Peering after it, he saw Liddy still squatting calmly on the seabed surrounded by an attentive ring of bubble folk.
He went out after the tube, suddenly aware of his own fatigue. He wanted to take a brief rest, but Indigo’s voice at once came crackling in his ear. “All right, Rombelle. Stop loafing. You have three minutes before I lift the ship.”
Bony nodded wearily — Indigo was clearly watching him on an internal display — and stumbled across to Liddy. “We have to get out of the way. Bubble people, too.”
Liddy was bending low, peering anxiously at him across the gulf of their two visors. “Is everything all right?”
Bony swore a royal internal oath. If they survived — if he could free her from servitude to Friday Indigo — if she wanted to go — he would take Liddy on a year-long holiday, just the two of them, to the ends of the solar system and beyond. Three “ifs” in one sentence. “Everything is fine, but Indigo is proposing to raise the ship. We have to be well clear when he does.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I’m awake. I’m ready to go.” Three lies in three sentences. He was improving. “Just let’s get everybody clear.”
She didn’t argue, but grabbed one end of the L-tube and helped him to carry it across to the seated group of bubble people. With gestures from her, the whole party moved off to a safe distance from the Mood Indigo , and watched as the ship lifted away from the surface with a great stirring of sediments.
Liddy was staring at him again. “You look really tired. Is it all right if we talk for a moment?”
“With Friday Indigo gone I feel better already. I’m awake. Talk away.”
“Well, I know I’m not very bright; but you see, when I was outside by myself I had an idea. We don’t really know anything about the bubble people, what sort of information they absorb, or how much, or how fast. So as well as talking to them myself, I set up a vocal data feed from the Mood Indigo’s general data base. People a whole lot smarter than me, talking about humans and human activities.”
“Liddy, that was a great idea.”
“I’m not so sure. You remember the sort of gibberish we got when Indigo tried, that `Is it Monday for the flower’ sort of thing?”
“Of course.”
“Well, for the past few minutes I haven’t been getting exactly that. I’m not sure it’s much better than Indigo’s try, but it is different. I recorded everything of course, but I’ve edited what you’ll hear. Listen to this bit.”
Bony heard a sequence of squeaks, as though a colony of mice had invaded his suit’s headset; and then, quite clearly, a synthesized voice: “…we go to the other ship before we go to the other ship. The other other ship sent us to the other ship, and then sent us to this in the wood of sharp .”
Bony wondered if that was supposed to make sense. Maybe he was more tired than he realized. “Play it again.”
“All right. But there’s another piece I want you to hear.”
The recorded translation was repeated, then went on: “The one ship is not the other ship or the other other ship. The one ship is the ship of the angels. The angels of the one ship send us to the other ship and the other other ship.”
Bony yawned. He had never expected to find the seabed of an alien planet relaxing, but here he was half ready to fall asleep. “It doesn’t make any more sense than what was said to Friday Indigo.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not criticizing you, Liddy. You tried. What did you think it meant?”