Marooned on Eden Read online

  "It's vital that we do," said George, more seriously than we had heard him for some time. "This mission has me concerned. We have no more landers, and if anything happens to this one, there is no way those on Prometheus can rescue the landing party."

  This flat statement had a brief chilling effect on us all, but it was brief indeed. I know I, as well as most of the rest of the crew, am secretly hoping to be part of this adventure!

  At this point, the three flouwen came surging into the control room in their wetsuits, asking endless questions and crowding the working screens so closely that those who had things to do elsewhere went off to do them. The wetsuit with the vermillion-colored helmet pushed close to David's screen, accompanied by an astringent smell of ammonia.

  "Big waves? Any waves? Look! There's a good one!" Little Red, like Loud Red, his distant larger portion left back on Rocheworld, was always interested in surfing.

  "Big, yes, but look how it crashes onto those rocks. You'd have to drop out, just as it got exciting," said Little White. As Little White "spoke" to Little Red using sonic chirps generated by his body, the chirps were translated by James and the translation sent to us through our imps.

  Little Red's desire to play with the actual controls of the computer, set up in fascinating array before him, was so strong that he moved in front of David, slowly pushing the man's arms to one side. Richard, behind David, gently but firmly intervened his own bulk in the opposite direction, but Little Red's attention was still on the flickering pictures before him.

  "You're making the picture? You're seeing far away?" The question was wistful.

  "I'm not actually seeing, these are old pictures, and we're just putting them together in a time sequence." David wondered how much of that was comprehensible to the flouwen. Little Purple, more content to observe from a comfortable distance, said, "Yes, you know, Little Red, like big wave comes, grows up up up, we slide down down down, then big splash! All in long, long picture!"

  "Hunh!" was Little Red's dubious response—his own milder version of the emphatic "Dumb!" of Loud Red. It seemed a good time to change the subject.

  "We're looking for the best time and place to go there," I said distinctly. "We need to find a spot where we'll all be able to see and find out more about this new place."

  "Yes!" shouted Little Red. "Find good things to eat in the water!"

  "That, too," I agreed. "We'll have to share all we learn with each other."

  "Share?" A new word.

  "Taste," said Little Purple firmly. "Same thing." He was right, for the flouwen can share each other's knowledge with the physical transfer of memory chemicals in a process much like tasting.

  "It would probably be a good idea to find a relatively enclosed area of water, for these pests here," said Jinjur. "Nothing as confining as a lake, but we don't want them bounding off across miles of ocean in the few months we plan to be down."

  We resumed scanning the terrain. "Here's a bay, but the vegetation seems sparse here."

  "We'll keep looking," decided George. "If possible, we should choose a place near the Inner pole. That way the nighttime period will always be illuminated by the light from Gargantua, making it easier to explore. The only really dark period will then be the two hour eclipse around noon. James, divide up the Inner pole area between the leading and trailing poles into thirty degree sectors and the five of us will each take a sector, marking possibles as we search."

  I was pleased at being included in this exercise. My own classification, as anthropologist, is somewhat ambiguous to the rest of the crew. It was so, simply because I had hastily selected the field as my first major, years ago, when an apologetic but insistent administrator had extracted me from the library. "You must choose something, from all these fields, to put down on the necessary papers!" I had been pleased at my own choice; so many interesting subjects can be reasonably included in this elastic discipline. With glee, the next term, I added "The Origin and History of American Quilts" and "Celtic Place-names" to my studies; my advisor only waved me wearily away as I happily explained how they fit into such a major. Since then, my studies and explorations had become almost too numerous to list, but George and especially Jinjur were very much aware of them all. They arranged quietly to have me around when I could be of help, either as technician or catalyst.

  In the area assigned me I could find nothing promising. There were several islands with lagoons, but most of them were extremely small. We need to have a place large enough to contain a fair representation of all of the most common life forms. The largest island had no bodies of water on it at all apparently, except for the lake in the gigantic volcanic crater near the center. It looked like Mount Fuji after a few million years of heavy rain, which, I guess, is exactly what had happened to it. The rest of the island was a sloping volcanic shield ending in black sand beaches, on which the breakers crashed with steady regularity. Little Red, peering over my shoulder, obviously thought this was ideal.

  "Good!" he shouted, and then launched into some jargon with his compatriots, apparently describing the curl of the wave which would allow then to travel parallel to the shore for long distances on a single wave. Firmly I moved the scanner inland, away from the attractive coast, and Little Red, disappointed, went off to lean on Richard's stalwart back. The flat fields I was surveying were not very interesting to me either. They reminded me of the "flow" country of northernmost Scotland, whose bleakness had impressed me even in the dreary charts of the agricultural handbook I had picked up one day in that much-loved library. Ostensibly a guide to making a living from those barren lands, it was really more of an encouragement to emigrate, but I had gleaned from it the possibilities of existence anywhere.

  It was Caroline who found it. We'd all been working in silence for more than an hour. Her quiet—"here"—contained so much satisfaction we all instantly switched in our consoles to her screen and delighted in the configuration she had outlined. It is a large island, located five degrees west and five degrees north of the Inner pole (which had already been picked as zero-zero) with a central volcano and a number of subsidiary calderas, probably coming from the same magma chamber. On the shore itself is a nearly circular lagoon, probably a drowned caldera, with only a narrow opening to the open sea. It is well suited to our purposes, I think.

  "Looks like St. Vincent island in the Caribbean," said Thomas. "Except the Crater Lake on this island is connected to the sea. I guess we should call it Crater Lagoon instead."

  "Yes!" said Jinjur, her finger on the touchscreen producing a green blob overlay on the image. "This looks like a good choice. The lander can come down above the center of Crater Lagoon there, slide over to the base of that low volcanic dome there and go up that gradual slope to the top, putting it well out of the reach of the tides. We can then set up camp and get going!"

  It sounds almost too good to be true. George probed the reports for further details. The crawler, Bubble, had been through the lagoon and had made a traverse of the less forested portions of the island. "The water looks clear, there, and the bottom was too deep for the scout to record, so there is no danger of the tides uncovering anything below the surface. We'll continue to check it out, but temporarily, make it so!"

  The continuing reports were favorable. Richard noted, approvingly: "The surrounding volcanoes are even taller—they'll provide protection from the prevailing storm winds. And from what we've seen of the local weather reports, that may be a very real advantage!"

  The lagoon is big enough so the flouwen will have room to hunt, and the opening to the ocean is small enough to make it clear what is off limits to them. The microclimate seems to be as moderate as any here, located near the equator midway between the leading and trailing Poles, so that Gargantua is always in the sky, providing some light at night. Indeed, it seems evident that we will be able to see well enough to walk about and work at all times, except during the midday eclipse. That fact is both comforting and daunting! The pressure to get the maximum amount of data dur
ing our few months stay is unremitting. Fortunately, we will be able to concentrate fully, having no need to deal with any sort of domestic chores, the Christmas Branches on the rocket lander and the Dragonfly aerospaceplane will handle those.

  The flouwen, of course, know they are destined for this mission, and are joyous over each step in the process being completed. Among the rest of us, however, a certain unavoidable tension is growing. Selecting the crew for each mission is strictly up to George and Jinjur, and their decisions have not yet been announced. It is entertaining, as well as enlightening, to observe the behavior of various individuals attempting to ensure they will at least not be overlooked! When I mention that Linda, our bouncy little astrophysicist, and tall Elizabeth are both to be found constantly in the exercise room, ostentatiously jogging on the treadmill wearing a spring-loaded hip harness (Linda's specialty) and furiously cycling (Elizabeth's long legs pedaling with amazing speed), the picture is clear. It would be funny, if one didn't sometimes catch a glimpse of the fire that can flash between those two pairs of green eyes as they each race to better their personal goals from yesterday!

  David, Arielle, and I have no time to spare for any posturing, even if we were so inclined. All three of us are determined that whoever flies this last lander will find every command response from the lander's computers, Joe and Josephine, quick, clean, and absolutely perfect. Of all the variables on the mission, the computer system is one which we can control, and we intend it to be as reliable as we—and James!—can make it. Joe and Josephine are in constant communication with James, absorbing all the information the central computer has collected about the surface of Zuni. The satellites to be deployed to provide global communications for the landing party are also undergoing our painstaking examination, as well as the solar-sail levitated statites to be placed in a hovering position over the polar regions. Our work occupies our entire shift, and we are ready to relax when it is over, since James relieves us of any personal housekeeping tasks. I use my time to enter the exciting events of the day into my electronic journal. I am more than ever pleased with the adaptability and speed of my little recorder—I can enter as lengthy an account of the day's doing as I like, either with the lightest of finger pressures on the chordic keypad, or if I am really tired, simply by rambling along, out loud. As its designer, it is a source of much satisfaction to me that it can live in my pocket, as personal to me as my imp. If I have the good fortune to be selected for the mission, it will certainly go along with me . . .

  I am going to Zuni! It was difficult to control my delight when Jinjur told me, but I managed, just barely, to restrain it until I returned here to privacy. It is the most marvelous news! It will be wonderful to be in a new place again, quite apart from all the discoveries which we will certainly make! And, like the rest, I too long for the freedom to move about a large and unfamiliar area—imagine having the possibility of tripping over something! Not that it would be pleasant, but for so long we have known every inch of our floors and walls, kept so immaculate by the Christmas Bush. And to think of looking up and not seeing a ceiling!

  Jinjur summoned me through James, just now. I was not expecting this to be "the" summons, as of course James is virtually our PA system, and I had thought the announcement to the mission crew was to be a private matter. However, I reckoned without Jinjur's instinctive leadership technique—she takes no significant action covertly.

  When I walked into her room, I knew instantly, and a thrill, almost electric, shot through me. There was no mistaking the message of that huge grin! I'm sure I mirrored it, nearly, as she said, "Yep, that's right! You're going to Zuni, and what's even more important to me, so am I!" This was surprising, and I reacted to it even in my excitement.

  "Are you really? George . . ."

  "Quite agrees, thank goodness. This mission looks to be the closest thing to a fine adventure as we'll be having in the foreseeable future, and I want to be part of it. We plan to leave in fifteen days."

  "Thank you for including me—I'm absolutely thrilled!" I said, just to make sure she understood that. It's important to get those words actually said, and when I calm down a bit I shall write a note to her and to George, as a matter of record. She then told me why I'd been selected, and once again I was grateful for the sudden urge which had led me to speak up in my own behalf so many years ago when the committee was considering me for the Barnard mission. General Jones, as I'd thought of her then, had asked, "Ms. Leroux, why do you think this large array of disconnected skills . . .pearl diving . . .costume design . . .would be of any use to us?"

  "Such a variety of accomplishments," was my tactful way of rephrasing her query, "surely suggests an adaptability of mind. I've sustained myself, unaided, in countries and cities—not the least of which is here, in Washington! I control myself, and am content with myself. In addition, I have, to a pronounced degree, the ability to interact successfully with anyone, humans as well as computers. Such a skill should certainly be in demand on a mission such as this."

  "Anyone?" The strong brown face remained cool.

  "Years of absorbing the manners and customs of other people, along with an instinct to listen, have taught me to establish an easy working relationship almost instantly. Normally, I would not speak so frankly, but it will help you to know what I can do as quickly as I can tell you."

  That had been all, at the time, but I had long suspected that my selection had been as much for those few words as the official reason. The announced decision, that while my excellent computer programming skills would no doubt be useful, an anthropologist was desired to assist in analyzing any alien life forms we might encounter, struck me as amusing. Jinjur's words to me today substantiated this.

  "Right now, it doesn't appear that there will be any life on Zuni intelligent enough for you to analyze, Reiki. But there certainly may be a need for a peacemaker, as I try to keep a leash on this exploratory party!" It was not, strictly speaking, my business to ask who else was going, but happily, Jinjur was in the mood to rejoice with me.

  "We've chosen Nels and Cinnamon, both," she said. "They outperform as a team better than both of them separately, if you can follow that! And there will certainly be plenty of interest to them in these weird plants. Nels will enjoy stretching those new legs of his," she added knowingly. I caught the tiny wince of remorse—she had, for so long, felt an antipathy for his flawed physique. "That will leave Deirdre in charge of the hydroponics lab—she'll enjoy that. But it sure will be quiet on that deck while we're away."

  "Carmen is going too. I know she was unwell, but she's better now than I've ever seen her, and anxious to do outstanding work. I think she can." I agreed, silently.

  "Then there's going to be David . . ." I was pleased with that. With both David and me on the mission, the vehicle computers would perform exceptionally.

  "And Richard . . ." I liked that too. Although his person is certainly attractive, it's his sense of what is funny which I most enjoy. He has that trick, which I suspect is a gift, of punning with ease and speed on almost any subject. The others groan, but as an appreciator of words, I find this talent irresistible and am reduced to helpless giggles, though of course I conceal that carefully.

  "Shirley's going too . . ." That was not a surprise. Jinjur and Shirley were a smooth-working team of long standing, and Jinjur knows she can rely absolutely on Shirley's integrity and capability as an engineer to keep the exploration spacecraft operating.

  "And John as medic. That makes ten." I was a little less pleased with this last selection, particularly when I considered Jinjur's confrontations with him herself! But I shall try to be optimistic about their desire to cooperate. Quickly I tallied up the list.

  "Ten? I counted nine . . ."

  "Oh, and Arielle. She can pilot the last airplane. She'll like that," she said positively, and I was almost as thrilled as I'd been for myself. It will be so good to see her at the controls of another Dragonfly! I understood, now, the radiant smile Arielle had given me as sh
e passed me in the corridor—I had thought it was due to the size of the piece of cake she was carrying.

  This morning has been an exciting one. Those of us who have been selected are striving to conceal our elation, and those who are staying aboard Prometheus are vocal in their disappointment. Elizabeth, particularly, who's had no training in military obedience to orders, is openly unhappy.

  "George, dammit, I really wanted to go on this one!"

  George did his best. "I know, Red, I know. Think I don't want to go too? But we took the choices one by one, and I think we've got a crew which will make the most efficient use of that few months. Don't get too steamed up, old girl. We've still got lots of smaller moons to visit with almost no gravity to cope with, like Zoroaster, Zwingli, and Zeus. We can reach those easily with one of our left-over Ascent Modules, and your asteroid prospecting experience will be invaluable for exploring those bodies. Also, some day we will need to return the Littles back to the rest of themselves on Rocheworld. We'll certainly need your piloting experience then, to fly an Ascent Module down to the zero gravity point between the two lobes, and rendezvous with Dragonfly Two with its crew of flouwen and gummies. There's explorations ahead for all of us—enough to keep us busy for the rest of our lives!

  This statement of the obvious made all of us, drifting near in the hall, feel better. The crew, intelligent, well-trained, and chosen for compatibility years ago, are in no danger of succumbing to envy. Those of us to go are soberly planning our work and preparing for our needs, and those remaining behind are able to put aside their disappointment enough to help prepare the Beagle for its voyage of exploration.

  I had, already, privately decided what I would most assuredly take with me if I were selected. I suspect we have all done that! Certainly the task of packing our personal belongings aboard the Beagle has gone with amazing speed—and it is a curious coincidence that these personal bundles fit precisely and neatly into the compartments on the second of the three compact decks comprising the crew quarters of the Beagle. I have just time to make a brief inspection of my own living area before returning to my shift. The next few days are going to be very busy indeed.