He rummaged in the supply case, pulled out a lightweight suit, and limped away. He held his yellow lamp high, and he was humming to himself.
Deb looked around her. As she became used to the darkness she was able to make out the line of the ridge against the sky and the top fronds of nearby bushes, but everything at ground level was invisible.
“Scruffy?” she whispered. “I can’t see you, but can you hear me? Come on, girl. I don’t have much time.”
There was a rustle close to her feet, and a small form brushed against her leg. She bent down and slipped a flat metal ring onto the ferret’s collar.
“I can’t understand you, the way that Tarbush can. But I think you understand me. You’re on your own now. Go find him. Follow his trail.” Dark intelligent eyes gazed up at Deb. “You heard me. Find your idol. Go sniff out Chrissie and the Tarb. This isn’t much I’m giving them, but it’s the best I can do. I’ll be back for all of you as soon as I can.”
29: ALIEN
The ear-splitting drone rang through the whole ship, blocking out speech until it finally ended.
Dag Korin had paused in the act of filling the last of half a dozen glasses with whiskey. “So I’m wrong again,” he said, in the dead silence that followed the drone. “Seems we’re not done for tonight after all. It’s the main airlock again. Dalton, would you?”
Chan was already on the way, racing back the way he had come an hour earlier. When he reached the lock it was still cycling. As the hatch opened and he saw Deb’s face behind the suit’s visor he let out an explosive gasp of relief. He was reaching to grab her in a bear hug, ignoring the fact that her suit streamed water, when he saw the second figure standing behind her in the lock.
It was a man, much too short to be Tarbush Hanson.
“Who the hell—”
“Friday Indigo,” Deb said loudly. Then, opening her helmet, she put a finger to her lips and mouthed, “Chrissie and Tarb alive. Don’t talk, take cues from me.”
The man limped forward and snapped open his visor, to reveal a tired face whose smiling mouth was stained and crusted with a sticky purple residue. “Friday Indigo, captain and owner of the Mood Indigo. I need to talk to whoever is in charge of this ship. Is that you?”
“No. I’m the second in command.” Chan glanced at Deb and saw her nod. “But I can take you to General Korin.”
“Let’s go, then.” Indigo glanced about him with pale, intense eyes, as though drinking in every detail of the Hero’s Return. “I don’t have much time.”
Deb urged him to go ahead of her and said, “Before anyone will talk to you, Mr. Indigo, you’re going to have to explain what happened to the crew members who were captured on shore.”
“I told you, they’re alive.”
“And safe?”
“Safer than they would be here. This dump looks like it’s falling apart.”
Deb, walking slightly behind Chan and Friday Indigo, could not argue with that. In the time she had been away, less than twenty-four hours, the air had become more clammy, the corridor smelled stale and rancid, and water dripped from every overhead feature.
Chan, leading the way, took his cue from Deb and did not speak until they reached Dag Korin’s quarters. When he entered the room everyone sat in exactly the same position as when he had left. Their attention was rigidly focused on the door, and all the whiskey glasses were empty.
“General Korin.” Chan had decided as they walked that the less he said, the better. Everyone could see for themselves that Deb was with him, while Chrissie and Tarbush were not. “This is Captain Indigo, of the Mood Indigo. He needs to talk with you.”
“General. Pleased to meet you.” Friday nodded. His eyes scanned the others in the group. He frowned and seemed slightly puzzled when he saw Bony Rombelle and Liddy Morse, but Gressel, squat and dark green, drew most of his attention. He stared at the Angel for a few moments, then abruptly sat down without being invited. His eyes blinked.
“General Korin,” he said, in a different tone. “It is my understanding that you are the leader of this force. I wish to speak with you on behalf of the Malacostracans.”
“Of the what ?” Dag Korin bristled.
“Malacostracans. Whom we call the People.”
“Never heard of ’em.”
Bony Rombelle, unexpectedly, said, “I have.”
He and Liddy had been sitting inconspicuously against one wall. Now everyone stared, and he blushed and went on, “Well, not actually heard about them, but read about them. And not these particular things, just the name. I think the word must have come out of a translation unit, because Malacostraca is the official descriptor for a class of Earth crustaceans. It includes animals like, you know, crabs and lobsters.”
Dag Korin scowled at him, and he subsided. Liddy nudged him in the side and whispered, “I was right. You do know every useless piece of information in the universe.”
“Captain Indigo,” Korin said, “you can call your Mala-what-nots anything you damn well please, and it won’t cut any ice with me. First, let me say that I’m sorry you lost your own ship.”
“Where did you get that idea?” Friday looked puzzled.
“Our computer tried to communicate with it, without success.”
“The com antennas were smashed in the storm. But the Malacostracans lifted the whole ship onto land, and the Mood Indigo is in pretty fair shape.” Friday stared around him. “I don’t have any use for it now, of course, but last time I looked at my ship it was in much better condition than this heap of junk.”
Korin’s jaw muscles tightened. “Captain Indigo, I was merely being polite when I mentioned your ship. To be honest, I don’t give a rat’s ass what the creatures on shore did for it or to it. What concerns me is that they disabled two of our orbiters, without provocation and without warning. And they captured two of our people. True, or false?”
“I would prefer to say, they have temporarily detained them. Your crew members are alive and well. Upon the completion of satisfactory arrangements, they will be returned.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s a `satisfactory arrangement’?”
“I will explain.” Friday Indigo’s voice changed again, becoming more formal and precise. “To demonstrate good intention, this information is provided in advance of any agreement between us. I will now make certain statements, to any of which you may if you choose offer objections or countersuggestions.
“First, neither you nor the People are native to this planet, or even to this universe.
“Second, this planet is itself an anomaly, in that it is able to support life. The overall structure of this universe is unfavorable for both the occurrence and the persistence of life. This universe is not therefore a suitable site for widespread colonization.
“Third, the People realize that the universe from which humans came is highly suited for the support of living creatures, including the People; more so, in fact, than any other of their expeditions have reported to date in the exploration of other universes.”
Korin’s head lifted. “Where did they get information about where we came from?”
“I provided it to them,” Friday said calmly. “However, even with all the help that I could give, the People lack enough knowledge of how you came here to perform a Link transition. Let me continue. Fourth, if you do not obtain help from somebody, you’ll never be able to go home.”
“And how the hell do they know that ?” The veins in the sides of Korin’s neck were bulging.
“I suggested it to them, and confirmed the fact when I came here. Although you may have the data needed to return to your own universe, you lack a suitable vehicle in which to do so. This was my suspicion before I came aboard this ship, and it is evident by observation. Space vessels do not take kindly to a sea environment.