“Sure thing, Captain.” Benj was almost gay for the moment. The conversation had been in Stennish, so none of the watching scientists had understood it; and the boy did not bother to ask their approval before passing on the order in the same language. Reffel seemed to have no trouble understanding Benj’s accent, and in due course his little machine headed west.
“And what’s happening to our map?” growled a topographer.
“You heard the captain,” replied Benj.
“I heard something. If I’d understood it, I’d have entered an objection, but I suppose it’s too late now. Do you suppose they’ll fill in the gap their leaving now, when they come back?”
“I’ll ask Dondragmer,” the boy replied obligingly, but with an uneasy glance toward his mother. She had put on the unreadable expression which he could read all too well. Fortunately, the scientist was already leaving the communication room growling under his breath; and fortunately Benj turned his attention back to Reffel’s screen before Easy lot her gravity. Several other nearby adults who had gleaned the substance of the conversation with Dondragmer were also having trouble keeping their faces straight, but Benj failed to notice.
Dondragmer’s assurance that lack of hydrogen would not be an immediate problem had helped some, but the idea of being frozen solidly into the ice was still bothersome. Even if this took longer to happen under the Kwembly’s hull, it would happen at last. It might even have happened already. It should be possible to do something.
Heat melts ice. Heat is energy. The Kwembly carried enough energy to life her out of Dhrawn’s gravity well, though there was no way to apply it to that task. Didn’t the huge vehicle have any sort of heaters in its life-support equipment which could be disassembled and used outside?
No. The Mesklinites were unlike ever to need heat on Dhrawn. Even the parts of the planet where internal heat seemed to be lacking were held up close to fifty degrees absolute by the sun; the regions they would have most to do with for many years yet, such as Low Alpha’s center, were too hot rather than too cold for them. The Kwembly did have refrigeration equipment powered from its fusion converters, but as far as Benj knew it had never been used since the original testing. It was expected to be necessary during the penetration of the central part of Low Alpha, not scheduled for at least an Earth year yet — and possibly even later; the fate of the Esket had made some of the original plans rather shaky.
But a refrigerator is a heat pump. Even Benj knew that; and at least in theory, most pumps are reversible. This one must have, somewhere outside the cruiser’s hull, a high-temperature section for dumping heat. Where was it? Was it removable? At what temperature did it run? Dondragmer must know. But would he have thought of this already? Maybe not. He was far from stupid, but his background wasn’t human. What physics he knew had been picked up from non-Mesklinites long after he was adult. It would not — presumably — be part of the underlying stock of knowledge which most intelligent beings lump under the concept of “common sense.” The boy nodded at this thought, spent another second or two reminding himself that even if he made himself look silly this might be worth it, and reach for his microphone switch.
This time there was no amusement among the surrounding adults as the message pulsed toward Dhrawn. None of those present knew enough of about the engineering details of the land-cruisers to answer the questions about the refrigerator heat-dump, but all knew enough physics to be annoyed with themselves for not having though of the question earlier.
“The refrigerator is one of your solid-state electronic devices which I don’t pretend to understand in detail.” The captain’s words finally reached the station. He was still using his own language, to the annoyance of some of the listeners. “We haven’t had to use it since the acceptance tests; the weather here had sometimes been pretty warm, but not really unbearable. It’s a simple thing to describe; there are metal plates in all the rooms which get cold when we turn the power on in the system. There is a metal bar — a sort of loop — running along each side of the hull at start and finish — one of the few things that does. I assume that bar must be the heat radiator; I see, as you imply I should, that there must be such a part to the system and that it must be outside, and nothing else seems to qualify. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be much father from the ice, even if it runs hot enough to melt it — which I don’t know offhand. I realize that it could be made as hot as you please by running enough electricity through it, but I’m not sure I like the idea of trying to take it off the hull for such a purpose.”
“I suppose it would wreck your refrigeration system — especially if you couldn’t get it back,” agreed Benj. “Still, maybe it’s not that bad. Let me find an engineer who really knows that system. I have an idea. I’ll call you back later.” The boy slid out of his seat without waiting for Dondragmer’s reply, and left the communication room on the run.
The moment he was gone, the observers who had not understood the language asked Easy for a summary of the conversation, which she gladly supplied. It did not make anyone happier with himself to find that they could not guess what the youngster’s idea might be. When Benj returned with an engineer in tow, those in hearing frankly abandoned their jobs to listen. Several heartfelt prayers of thanksgiving must have ascended when it was noted that the newcomer was not a linguist, and the boy was interpreting for him. The two settled into seats before the screens, and Benj made sure he knew what to say before energizing his microphone.
“I should tell the captain that most of the fastenings holding the radiator bar to the Kwembly’s skin are sort of nails; they only go a little way intro the skin and can be pried out without damaging the hull. It might be necessary to use cement to fasten them back in afterward, but they should have plenty of that. The connections at the rear will have to be cut, thought . The alloy isn’t very hard and their saws will be able to handle it. Once detached, the bar can be used as a resistance heater simply by pushing its ends into the D.C. holes in a power box. I can tell him that there is no danger from a short circuit, since the converters have internal safeties. I s that right, Mr. Katini?”
“That’s it,” the small, grizzled engineer replied with a nod. He was one of those who had helped design and build the land-cruisers, and one of the very few human beings actually to spend much time at Mesklin’s three-gravity equator. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble making it clear to Dondragmer, even without translation; I’ll tell him directly if you wish. He and I always got along easily enough in my own language.”
Benj nodded acknowledgement of this, but started speaking into his microphone in Stennish. Easy suspected that he was showing off, and hoped that it wouldn’t backfire on him too badly, but saw no real need to interfere. The boy was old enough to stand a little stewing in his own juice. She had to admit that he was doing a good job of translation; he must have picked up a great deal from his friend Beetchermarlf.
When the captain’s answer came back it was in the human tongue. Dondragmer had seen the most probable reason why Benj, rather than the engineer who had provided the information, should be doing the talking. The boy looked a little startled and confirmed his mother’s suspicions by glancing quickly at her. She carefully kept her eyes on Dondragmer’s screen.
“I have the picture,” the Mesklinite’s slightly accented voice came through — he what not always perfectly successful in confining his voice to the human audibility range. “We can detach the refrigerator bar use it, with a power box, as a heater to melt the ice around the ship. There will be plenty of power in the converter, and no danger of blowing it up. Please clear me on two points however.