The Watch Below (11 page)
Authors: James White
"Well now," he said gently, "it seems that your scarred face bothers you.
To be honest it bothers me, too, a little. But suppose I close one eye
so as not to see your bad side. That way I'd be kissing one of the
nicest-looking faces I've ever seen."
He cut short her objections by quickly smothering them, and this time
he made sure that the kiss was not a hurried peck. It was like kissing
the face of a marble statue, a cold and resilient marble face with
imperfections on one side. She put her hand against his chest but did
not push him away, and suddenly her arms were tight around him.
It was not a passionate embrace, Wallis thought, but more in the nature
of the hug a frightened younger sister in need of protection gives to
her big brother. It was not a passionate kiss, either, although her lips
seemed to be softening and growing warmer. Through his open eye he could
see that her face was relaxing, too, and becoming less strained. Maybe he
wasn't such a bad psychologist after all, and it really was a small thing
to do to make her feel better about things. Now if he counted up to ten
slowly and then gently broke the near-stranglehold that she had on him,
she certainly should not feel that this one had been a frightened peck.
There was a sudden, peculiar change in the expression in her face, an odd
play of light and shade that made him think that there might be two sources
of light in the tank instead of one. Wallis pulled away guiltily.
"I'll go out and come in again," said Dickson in a carefully neutral
voice. He did just that, and then added, "Breakfast's ready, if anyone
is interested."
XI
On the Unthan flagship the problems continued to be technical rather than
personal. The food supply for the trip was ample if the crew spent
practically all the time in Long Sleep, but completely inadequate for the
needs of a small though increasing population who were continuously warm
and drawing on it for many generations. Food would have to be grown,
therefore, and while there was no shortage of the proper seed in the
ship, the growing of food required an increased temperature which,
if the proper safety measures were not taken, could fatally affect the
cooled passengers in the food-growing areas.
Fortunately, the flagship's crew were the best of the best, the top people
in their particular specialties, so that purely technical problems did not
worry them for long, but, for instance, both the organization and the
transfer to tape and print of all the technical knowledge which allowed
them to solve these problems did worry them, however, and continuously.
It worried them even when all their records were complete and there was no
longer any reason for them to remain warm in the ship.
The records of Hellahar and the captain were far from complete, partly
because they had the rest of their lives in which to complete them and
partly because their problems were more difficult of solution. Problems
such as how to avoid a small-scale population explosion in the ship a
few generations hence -- a problem stemming from when the most important
considerations in choosing the female section of the fleet had been the
physical ability and a strong psychological urge to have children. And
there were the more tenuous, but very real, personal problems that no
amount of specialization or technical know-how would help to solve,
because the solutions were so intensely individual.
Deslann would have liked the crew to stay warm a little longer, if only
to have their company and moral support. The healer was more honest about
it, saying that the longer they were around, the farther off would be
the evil hour when the captain and himself would have to start founding
their dynasties. Meanwhile the crew had reached the point where they had
nothing useful to do and were wasting precious biological time not doing
it; so Deslann had a preliminary talk with the healer and then summoned
them to the control room for the last time.
The last time, he silently corrected himself, so far as Hellahar and himself
were concerned.
He made formal farewells, as did the healer, to each member of the crew,
during which a great many informal things were said on each side. Deslann
was surprised and deeply moved by the odd combination of insubordination
and respect in some of the things they said. At the same time it was
plainly obvious that they were afraid, afraid for themselves and for the
thousands of others like them spread throughout the fleet. Afraid for
their race and at the same time personally afraid that after they went
into Long Sleep in a few minutes time they would never, never wake up.
There was little that Deslann could say that would make them feel better,
but he had to try to say it.
He began, "The healer and myself will arrange, when the time comes,
that you people will be warmed ahead of the other captain so that you
will be able to explain the present situation to him and prepare him
for what you will find when you are revived. I'm putting this badly,
but that is because I have no real idea of what you will find then,
only that it is sure to be a surprise.
"Of course, to look on the worst possible side of it," Deslann conjectured,
"there is always the chance that our generations of captains and crews
will mismanage things so badly that you will never be revived -- that
the pile will go critical or the timers will be damaged by unskilled
maintenance or our descendants will kill each other off or die in some
other fashion. Or you might waken to find that the fleet, or this ship
or both, has missed the target sun and that there is nothing at all you
can do about it."
This is supposed to be a pep-talk, Deslann reminded himself sharply;
you are not supposed to add all your own worries to theirs!
"But I think that you can all rest contentedly," he resumed seriously,
"because the possibilities I have just mentioned are extremely remote;
perhaps they are impossibilities. Nobody knows better than yourselves
the long, careful work which has gone into the recordings and training
manuals for the use of the generations of astrogators, engineers, and
computers to come. You can rest assured that the ship will be efficiently
crewed and that you will reach the target system.
"After that . . ."
Deslann broke off, watching the faces of Gerrol and the others as they
thought of what would happen after that. The truth was that none of them
knew what would happen in detail, only that they would be close to a
world that would be cool and almost completely covered by tremendous
oceans, and that they would have to map and investigate those oceans and
choose sites for the initial settlements, which must be at the correct
depth and as free as possible from inimical life-forms, and that they
must establish themselves securely enough and in enough time to guide
in the main body of the fleet. The end of the journey might prove to be
the most dangerous and difficult part as well as the most rewarding, and
Deslann had fully expected to share both the dangers and the rewards.
Now, though, he would share nothing except a lifetime of work and worry and
hope that was so faint at times that it verged on outright self-deception.
There would be no rewards for Hellahar and himself or for a large number
of the offspring still unborn. Not for the first time he felt a pang of
sympathy for all the crews that were to come, and a sort of angry pity
as he wondered if there ever could be enough hope, or self-deception,
to balance the decades of unrewarding work ahead. His present crew did
not know how lucky they were.
Very seriously, Deslann said, "We will not see each other again. You, on the
other hand, will see each other in a very short time, because there is
no detectable time lapse while in hibernation anesthesia. Of course,
I don't know what sort of situation you will have to meet when you
awaken. Doubtless there will be changes in language and customs and
values, perhaps a certain amount of degeneration. To you, all these
changes will seem to have happened within the next few minutes, so they
will be bound to come as a shock. But no matter what that future crew has
become or how it behaves, I would like you to treat them with sympathy
and understanding. And respect.
"If for no other reason than that their ancestors were once your healer
and your captain," he ended on a lighter note, repeating, "you will
treat them with respect."
XII
The fight started over the use to which their remaining stock of oxygen
tanks should be put. When Gulf Trader had begun to sink again the acetylene
had given out and they had to use some of their oxygen. Dickson insisted
that the next time they started to sink there was no point in keeping it
afloat if they were going to suffocate anyway, while the doctor said that
they were not really suffocating and must keep near the surface for as long
as possible and hope for the best. Wallis got between them just in time.
They were both heavier men than he was, but he had been working with a length
of heavy pipe when the argument started and so was able to negotiate from a
position of strength. He told them that they probably would not be fighting
if they had not been suffering from oxygen starvation and splItting
headaches, but if they did not start behaving themselves their headaches
would get much worse. They began to look ashamed of themselves and after
that they never fought again, although they did argue nearly all the time.
The next time the ship became too still and quiet they used the oxygen tanks
until the wave motion could be felt again. Half their original supply of
tanked oxygen was gone and the air was becoming really foul. It was so
bad that two people at a time were needed to work the generator and even
then there had to be a third standing by with an oxygen tank in case
one of them passed out. The two people not on the generator or standing
by it stayed in the garden, where, with the lights in operation and the
process of photosynthesis at work in the struggling young bean plants,
the air was supposed to be fresher. It was hard to tell because everyone
who stayed there for more than a few minutes needed nose plugs.
It was a day or night in the middle of June, while the girls were in the
garden and the men were on the generator, when the subject of their air
supply came up -- not for the first time that day.
"Carbon dioxide is heavier than air," Radford said suddenly, "and the
openings between the tanks are at the roof of each tank. Would it be
possible to rig fans to keep the good air circulating so that -- "
"They would blow that foul muck from Eleven and Twelve up here," Dickson
broke in, "and we wouldn't be able to breathe at all, much less work the
generator pedals."
"We need the generator," said Radford dully. "During daylight a plant
absorbs CO2 and releases oxygen. In darkness it releases excess CO2 and
produces no oxygen at all -- "
"This intriguing horticultural fact," Dickson broke in, "has been mentioned
by you before, Doctor. Also that the garden is doing well. But if this is
the case, then why don't we feel the effects?"
"Because there is so much foul air down here in comparison with the leaf
area of the beans!"
"You two gentlemen should step outside for a minute," Wallis said sharply.
"Either that or change to a more pleasant subject."
Nobody laughed at the crack about stepping outside. They had all made it,
and every conceivable variation on it, too many times for it to be funny
anymore. Dickson continued pedaling in silence for several minutes,
breathing deeply -- hyperventilating, the doctor called it -- before
he replied.
"There is only one pleasant subject," he said, trying to look lascivious,
"women. I can talk about them for hours. Not just the anatomical details,
but the funny things they do sometimes. For instance, there's a certain
female who doesn't live far away from here, who gets nervous and jumpy and
cries a lot, and when a certain man, who also lives in the neighborhood,
winks at her she stops being nervous and crying. It's a slow and, in my
opinion -- based on a wide experience of winking, ogling, and giving the
eye generally -- a meaningful wink. It is invariably given with the same
eye and it is almost always effective.
"Curiosity," Dickson ended, "is killing me. And Jenny, and the doctor . . ."
"Wild horses . . ." began Wallis, smiling to hide his embarrassment.
"I've thought of winking at her myself several times," Dickson went on
quickly, "just to see if it works with other people. But she might
misunderstand and Jenny
certainly
would not understand. And the
doctor -- "
". . . Would have his name stricken from the rolls," Radford finished
for him. "The BMA are very stuffy about patient-doctor relationships."
It was an odd situation, Wallis thought, especially as he had only kissed
Margaret, with his eye closed, once. The effect on her seemed wildly
out of proportion, because she appeared more often nowadays without her
face bandages and when she was feeling bad, instead of talking to her
and saying things which would merely make her feel embarrassed when the
others were present, he would simply wink the eye on her bad side. He had
thought about it a lot and had decided that her reaction was due partly
to having a Big Secret to share with someone in a situation where privacy
of any kind was practically nonexistent and partly to feeling that she
was still attractive enough for someone to kiss her, if only once. And
the trouble was that the secret had to be kept or the therapeutic wink,
as the doctor called it, would lose its effect.
Dickson, still trying desperately to satisfy his curiosity, changed his
line of attack.
"It seems to me that people who wink at people," he went on, still
lasciviously, "are indulging in a form of, uh, intimacy -- the early
stages of intimacy, of course. I'm talking about winking between men
people and women people at the moment, as I don't want to get sidetracked
onto the subject of fairy-type people."
"I'm glad," said Wallis.
"Such intimacy should not be indulged," Dickson continued unchecked,
"by an officer or a gentleman, or both, unless his intentions are honorable.
It could be argued that continued winking is tantamount to having an
'understanding,' or being unofficially engaged. However, the problems
of a couple engaged to be married are many, and require a certain amount
of tact and -- "
To be honest it bothers me, too, a little. But suppose I close one eye
so as not to see your bad side. That way I'd be kissing one of the
nicest-looking faces I've ever seen."
He cut short her objections by quickly smothering them, and this time
he made sure that the kiss was not a hurried peck. It was like kissing
the face of a marble statue, a cold and resilient marble face with
imperfections on one side. She put her hand against his chest but did
not push him away, and suddenly her arms were tight around him.
It was not a passionate embrace, Wallis thought, but more in the nature
of the hug a frightened younger sister in need of protection gives to
her big brother. It was not a passionate kiss, either, although her lips
seemed to be softening and growing warmer. Through his open eye he could
see that her face was relaxing, too, and becoming less strained. Maybe he
wasn't such a bad psychologist after all, and it really was a small thing
to do to make her feel better about things. Now if he counted up to ten
slowly and then gently broke the near-stranglehold that she had on him,
she certainly should not feel that this one had been a frightened peck.
There was a sudden, peculiar change in the expression in her face, an odd
play of light and shade that made him think that there might be two sources
of light in the tank instead of one. Wallis pulled away guiltily.
"I'll go out and come in again," said Dickson in a carefully neutral
voice. He did just that, and then added, "Breakfast's ready, if anyone
is interested."
XI
On the Unthan flagship the problems continued to be technical rather than
personal. The food supply for the trip was ample if the crew spent
practically all the time in Long Sleep, but completely inadequate for the
needs of a small though increasing population who were continuously warm
and drawing on it for many generations. Food would have to be grown,
therefore, and while there was no shortage of the proper seed in the
ship, the growing of food required an increased temperature which,
if the proper safety measures were not taken, could fatally affect the
cooled passengers in the food-growing areas.
Fortunately, the flagship's crew were the best of the best, the top people
in their particular specialties, so that purely technical problems did not
worry them for long, but, for instance, both the organization and the
transfer to tape and print of all the technical knowledge which allowed
them to solve these problems did worry them, however, and continuously.
It worried them even when all their records were complete and there was no
longer any reason for them to remain warm in the ship.
The records of Hellahar and the captain were far from complete, partly
because they had the rest of their lives in which to complete them and
partly because their problems were more difficult of solution. Problems
such as how to avoid a small-scale population explosion in the ship a
few generations hence -- a problem stemming from when the most important
considerations in choosing the female section of the fleet had been the
physical ability and a strong psychological urge to have children. And
there were the more tenuous, but very real, personal problems that no
amount of specialization or technical know-how would help to solve,
because the solutions were so intensely individual.
Deslann would have liked the crew to stay warm a little longer, if only
to have their company and moral support. The healer was more honest about
it, saying that the longer they were around, the farther off would be
the evil hour when the captain and himself would have to start founding
their dynasties. Meanwhile the crew had reached the point where they had
nothing useful to do and were wasting precious biological time not doing
it; so Deslann had a preliminary talk with the healer and then summoned
them to the control room for the last time.
The last time, he silently corrected himself, so far as Hellahar and himself
were concerned.
He made formal farewells, as did the healer, to each member of the crew,
during which a great many informal things were said on each side. Deslann
was surprised and deeply moved by the odd combination of insubordination
and respect in some of the things they said. At the same time it was
plainly obvious that they were afraid, afraid for themselves and for the
thousands of others like them spread throughout the fleet. Afraid for
their race and at the same time personally afraid that after they went
into Long Sleep in a few minutes time they would never, never wake up.
There was little that Deslann could say that would make them feel better,
but he had to try to say it.
He began, "The healer and myself will arrange, when the time comes,
that you people will be warmed ahead of the other captain so that you
will be able to explain the present situation to him and prepare him
for what you will find when you are revived. I'm putting this badly,
but that is because I have no real idea of what you will find then,
only that it is sure to be a surprise.
"Of course, to look on the worst possible side of it," Deslann conjectured,
"there is always the chance that our generations of captains and crews
will mismanage things so badly that you will never be revived -- that
the pile will go critical or the timers will be damaged by unskilled
maintenance or our descendants will kill each other off or die in some
other fashion. Or you might waken to find that the fleet, or this ship
or both, has missed the target sun and that there is nothing at all you
can do about it."
This is supposed to be a pep-talk, Deslann reminded himself sharply;
you are not supposed to add all your own worries to theirs!
"But I think that you can all rest contentedly," he resumed seriously,
"because the possibilities I have just mentioned are extremely remote;
perhaps they are impossibilities. Nobody knows better than yourselves
the long, careful work which has gone into the recordings and training
manuals for the use of the generations of astrogators, engineers, and
computers to come. You can rest assured that the ship will be efficiently
crewed and that you will reach the target system.
"After that . . ."
Deslann broke off, watching the faces of Gerrol and the others as they
thought of what would happen after that. The truth was that none of them
knew what would happen in detail, only that they would be close to a
world that would be cool and almost completely covered by tremendous
oceans, and that they would have to map and investigate those oceans and
choose sites for the initial settlements, which must be at the correct
depth and as free as possible from inimical life-forms, and that they
must establish themselves securely enough and in enough time to guide
in the main body of the fleet. The end of the journey might prove to be
the most dangerous and difficult part as well as the most rewarding, and
Deslann had fully expected to share both the dangers and the rewards.
Now, though, he would share nothing except a lifetime of work and worry and
hope that was so faint at times that it verged on outright self-deception.
There would be no rewards for Hellahar and himself or for a large number
of the offspring still unborn. Not for the first time he felt a pang of
sympathy for all the crews that were to come, and a sort of angry pity
as he wondered if there ever could be enough hope, or self-deception,
to balance the decades of unrewarding work ahead. His present crew did
not know how lucky they were.
Very seriously, Deslann said, "We will not see each other again. You, on the
other hand, will see each other in a very short time, because there is
no detectable time lapse while in hibernation anesthesia. Of course,
I don't know what sort of situation you will have to meet when you
awaken. Doubtless there will be changes in language and customs and
values, perhaps a certain amount of degeneration. To you, all these
changes will seem to have happened within the next few minutes, so they
will be bound to come as a shock. But no matter what that future crew has
become or how it behaves, I would like you to treat them with sympathy
and understanding. And respect.
"If for no other reason than that their ancestors were once your healer
and your captain," he ended on a lighter note, repeating, "you will
treat them with respect."
XII
The fight started over the use to which their remaining stock of oxygen
tanks should be put. When Gulf Trader had begun to sink again the acetylene
had given out and they had to use some of their oxygen. Dickson insisted
that the next time they started to sink there was no point in keeping it
afloat if they were going to suffocate anyway, while the doctor said that
they were not really suffocating and must keep near the surface for as long
as possible and hope for the best. Wallis got between them just in time.
They were both heavier men than he was, but he had been working with a length
of heavy pipe when the argument started and so was able to negotiate from a
position of strength. He told them that they probably would not be fighting
if they had not been suffering from oxygen starvation and splItting
headaches, but if they did not start behaving themselves their headaches
would get much worse. They began to look ashamed of themselves and after
that they never fought again, although they did argue nearly all the time.
The next time the ship became too still and quiet they used the oxygen tanks
until the wave motion could be felt again. Half their original supply of
tanked oxygen was gone and the air was becoming really foul. It was so
bad that two people at a time were needed to work the generator and even
then there had to be a third standing by with an oxygen tank in case
one of them passed out. The two people not on the generator or standing
by it stayed in the garden, where, with the lights in operation and the
process of photosynthesis at work in the struggling young bean plants,
the air was supposed to be fresher. It was hard to tell because everyone
who stayed there for more than a few minutes needed nose plugs.
It was a day or night in the middle of June, while the girls were in the
garden and the men were on the generator, when the subject of their air
supply came up -- not for the first time that day.
"Carbon dioxide is heavier than air," Radford said suddenly, "and the
openings between the tanks are at the roof of each tank. Would it be
possible to rig fans to keep the good air circulating so that -- "
"They would blow that foul muck from Eleven and Twelve up here," Dickson
broke in, "and we wouldn't be able to breathe at all, much less work the
generator pedals."
"We need the generator," said Radford dully. "During daylight a plant
absorbs CO2 and releases oxygen. In darkness it releases excess CO2 and
produces no oxygen at all -- "
"This intriguing horticultural fact," Dickson broke in, "has been mentioned
by you before, Doctor. Also that the garden is doing well. But if this is
the case, then why don't we feel the effects?"
"Because there is so much foul air down here in comparison with the leaf
area of the beans!"
"You two gentlemen should step outside for a minute," Wallis said sharply.
"Either that or change to a more pleasant subject."
Nobody laughed at the crack about stepping outside. They had all made it,
and every conceivable variation on it, too many times for it to be funny
anymore. Dickson continued pedaling in silence for several minutes,
breathing deeply -- hyperventilating, the doctor called it -- before
he replied.
"There is only one pleasant subject," he said, trying to look lascivious,
"women. I can talk about them for hours. Not just the anatomical details,
but the funny things they do sometimes. For instance, there's a certain
female who doesn't live far away from here, who gets nervous and jumpy and
cries a lot, and when a certain man, who also lives in the neighborhood,
winks at her she stops being nervous and crying. It's a slow and, in my
opinion -- based on a wide experience of winking, ogling, and giving the
eye generally -- a meaningful wink. It is invariably given with the same
eye and it is almost always effective.
"Curiosity," Dickson ended, "is killing me. And Jenny, and the doctor . . ."
"Wild horses . . ." began Wallis, smiling to hide his embarrassment.
"I've thought of winking at her myself several times," Dickson went on
quickly, "just to see if it works with other people. But she might
misunderstand and Jenny
certainly
would not understand. And the
doctor -- "
". . . Would have his name stricken from the rolls," Radford finished
for him. "The BMA are very stuffy about patient-doctor relationships."
It was an odd situation, Wallis thought, especially as he had only kissed
Margaret, with his eye closed, once. The effect on her seemed wildly
out of proportion, because she appeared more often nowadays without her
face bandages and when she was feeling bad, instead of talking to her
and saying things which would merely make her feel embarrassed when the
others were present, he would simply wink the eye on her bad side. He had
thought about it a lot and had decided that her reaction was due partly
to having a Big Secret to share with someone in a situation where privacy
of any kind was practically nonexistent and partly to feeling that she
was still attractive enough for someone to kiss her, if only once. And
the trouble was that the secret had to be kept or the therapeutic wink,
as the doctor called it, would lose its effect.
Dickson, still trying desperately to satisfy his curiosity, changed his
line of attack.
"It seems to me that people who wink at people," he went on, still
lasciviously, "are indulging in a form of, uh, intimacy -- the early
stages of intimacy, of course. I'm talking about winking between men
people and women people at the moment, as I don't want to get sidetracked
onto the subject of fairy-type people."
"I'm glad," said Wallis.
"Such intimacy should not be indulged," Dickson continued unchecked,
"by an officer or a gentleman, or both, unless his intentions are honorable.
It could be argued that continued winking is tantamount to having an
'understanding,' or being unofficially engaged. However, the problems
of a couple engaged to be married are many, and require a certain amount
of tact and -- "
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