“Will that make a difference?” she asked.
“I’m not sure, but if there is going to be any difference it will be for the worse. If only better records had been kept. I can’t find anything at all from any early planetary surveys. All the memory tapes have been wiped clean. Of course there are logs of all the trips, but they aren’t very helpful. Technical notes and distance for the most part. But no personal journals of any kind. I suppose when everything has to be packed to be moved every couple of years odd items usually get thrown out. So I have no hard facts — just a feeling. It’s spring that’s bothering me.
“I do not know the word”
“Not in the language. No referent. On more reasonable planets there are four seasons in the temperate zones. Winter is the cold time, summer is the hot. The time in between, when everything is warming up, that’s spring.”
Alzbeta shook her head and smiled. “It is a little hard to understand.”
“There is something a little bit like it on this planet. At the edge of the twilight zone there are life forms that have adapted to the cooler environment. They have their ecological niche there and make out fine until summer returns. When it does, all this burgeoning hot-zone life will probably rush in and make a meal of the cooler-adapted forms. Everything out there is eat and be eaten, so the competition for a new food source must be something fierce.”
“But you can’t be sure
“I’m not sure — and I also hope that I am wrong about it. Just cross your fingers and hope that our luck holds Out.”
It didn’t. At first the change seemed innocent enough, just a little incidental traffic slaughter of no real importance. Only Alzbeta seemed put out by it.
“The animals, they don’t seem to know about machines. They just come out onto the Road and are run over, crushed.”
“There’s nothing we can do about it. Don’t look if it bothers you.
“I must look. That is part of my job. But those little greenish things with the orange bands, there seem to be a lot of them, coming out of the jungle.”
Jan noticed them now, first individuals, then groups, more and more of them. They were like obscene parodies of terrestrial frogs that had grown big as cats. A ripple of movement seemed to go over them as they advanced with a jerking, hopping motion.
“A migration, maybe,” he said. “Or they could be chased by something. It’s messy — but they can’t hurt us.
Or can they? As he spoke the words Jan felt a sudden disquiet. The edge of a memory. What was it? But any doubts at all called for caution. He switched off the speed control and let off on the accelerator, then turned on the microphone.
“Leader to all trains. Decrease speed by 20 K’s now!”
“What’s wrong?” Alzbeta asked.
The Road was becoming almost invisible, covered by the creatures that thronged across it, oblivious of the deadly wheels rushing toward them.
“Of course!” Jan shouted into the microphone. “All drivers stop, stop. But don’t use your brakes. Ease off on the power, power down to zero, but watch your coupling pressure gauges or you’ll jackknife. Repeat. Slow without braking, watch your coupling pressure, watch your nose radar for the train ahead of you.”
“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Emo called in from the engine compartment.
“Animals of some kind, covering the Road, thousands of them, we’re running them down, crushing them…”
Jan broke off as the engine lurched sideways, then he lashed out his hand to cut off the automatic steering, and clutched at the steering wheel.
“It’s like driving on ice… no friction… the wheels are beginning to slide on the bodies”
And the cars were beginning to go too. In the monitor screens Jan saw that the whole train was beginning to wriggle like a snake as the cars skidded and the steering computer fought to keep them following in a straight line.
“Get the computer out of your steering circuits,” Jan ordered the other drivers, throwing the switch himself at the same time. A touch of power pulled ahead on the train and stopped the weaving for the moment. He dropped the speed again, slowly, slowly, plunging on into the solid wall of bodies.
“Jan, look ahead!”
Alzbeta’s cry alerted him and he saw that the Road, straight until now, began to curve ahead in a shallow bend. An easy curve — normally. But what would happen now with the road surface as slick as oil?
The speed was dropping — but not fast enough. They were down to 50 and still dropping. And the curve began.
Jan still had the steering on manual, but he had to switch the computer back on so the cars of the train would track correctly behind him. A touch of the wheel, then center it. The shallowest curve he could make, starting from the inside of the bend and drifting slowly to the outside. Halfway through now, almost to the edge. Speed down to 40… 35. A bit more on wheel. Going all right. If he could hold it there.
A quick look at the screens showed the cars snaking slightly, but following in his course. Almost through. There was a sudden bumping as they ran over the charred tree limbs where the tanks had cleared the surface. Good. This would add some friction. Just beyond the edge of the Road was the jungle, a sharp bank and what looked like water or swamp.
“The creatures on the Road, there seem to be less of them,” Alzbeta said. “They’re coming in groups now, fewer of them.”
“I hope you’re right.” Jan felt, for the first time, the soreness in his hands where he had grappled the steering wheel. “Doing 10 K’s now, cars tracking well.”
“I can’t hold it!”
The words burst from the speaker, a cry of despair.
“Who are you? Identify!” Jan shouted into the mike.
“Train two… jackknifing… have full brakes, still sliding… the EDGE!”
Jan eased his own train to a stop, automatically, scarcely aware, listening to the scream of pain. The crashing, breaking sounds. Then silence.
“All trains stop,” Jan ordered. “Report only if you are in trouble. Report.”
There was the hiss of static, nothing else.
“Train two, can you hear me? Come in two, report.”
Just silence. Nothing. “Train three, are you stopped?” This time there was an answer.
“Three here. Stopped okay. No problems. Creatures still crossing the Road. There’s a great trail of crushed bodies and blood ahead
“That’s enough, three. Start up, minimum speed ahead. Report as soon as you have train two in sight.” Jan thumbed the switch to internal. “Ryzo, can you raise train two at all?”
“I’m trying,” the communications officer answered. “No signal from the engine. Chun Taekeng has his own radio on the train but he’s not answering.”
“Keep trying
“Hold it. A signal here, I’ll put it on.”
The voice was gasping, “… frightened… what happened. People hurt when we stopped. Send the doctor…”
“This is the Trainmaster. Who is speaking?”
“Jan? Lee Ciou here. We had a panic stop and people are hurt
“More important, Lee. Are you still airtight — and is the air conditioning working?”
“As far as I know. And I hope we’re not holed because the ground outside is covered with creatures of some kind. They’re crawling over the cars, the windows.”
“They can’t hurt you as long as they can’t get in. Get a report from both cars and get back to me as soon as you can. Over and out.”
Jan sat stiffly, locked in concentration, staring unseeingly at the front port, his fist tapping heavily on the steering wheel. The train jackknifed — but power still on. So the engine generator must still be functioning. If so, then why couldn’t they contact the crew? What had taken the radio out of circuit? He couldn’t imagine what could have happened, but one thing was certain: he would need help to straighten out the mess. And he had already wasted precious minutes not calling for it.