A Circus of Hells by Poul Anderson. Part three

Always make the opposition underestimate you.” I am surprised at your

knowledge of our history before the Roidhunate, Lieutenant,” the

Merseian said. “But then, considering that our pickets were ordered to

watch for a Terran scout, the pilot must be of special interest.”

“Oh, well,” Flandry said modestly.

“To answer your question, few bodies here are worth naming. Swarms of

asteroids, yes, but just four true planets, the smallest believed to be

a mere escaped satellite. Orbits are wildly skewed and eccentric. Our

astronomers theorize that early in the life of this system, another star

passed through, disrupting the normal configuration.”

Flandry studied the world growing before him. The ship had switched from

hyperdrive to sublight under gravs–so few KPS as to support the idea of

many large meteoroids. (They posed no hazard to a vessel which could

detect them in plenty of time to dodge, or could simply let them bounce

off a forcefield; but they would jeopardize the career of a skipper who

thus inelegantly wasted power.) Talwin’s crescent, blinding white,

blurred along the edges, indicated that, like Venus, it was entirely

clouded over. But it was not altogether featureless; spots and bands of

red could be seen.

“Looks none too promising,” he remarked. “Aren’t we almighty close to

the sun?”

“The planet is,” Tryntaf said. “It is late summer–everywhere; there is

hardly any axial tilt–and temperatures remain fierce. Dress lightly

before you disembark, Lieutenant! At periastron, Talwin comes within

0.87 astronomical units of Siekh; but apastron is at a full 2.62 a.u.”

Flandry whistled. “That’s as eccentric as I can remember ever hearing of

in a planet, if not more. Uh … about one-half, right?” He saw a chance

to appear less than a genius. “How can you survive? I mean, a good big

axial tilt would protect one hemisphere, at least, from the worst

effects of orbital extremes. But this ball, well, any life it may have

has got to be unlike yours or mine.”

“Wrong,” was Tryntafs foreseeable reply. “Atmosphere and hydrosphere

moderate the climate to a degree; likewise location. Those markings you

see are of biological origin, spores carried into the uppermost air.

Photosynthesis maintains a breathable oxynitrogen mixture.”

“Uh-h-h … diseases?” No, wait, now you’re acting too stupid. True,

what’s safe for a Merseian isn’t necessarily so for a man. We may have

extraordinarily similar biochemistries, but still, we’ve fewer bugs in

common that are dangerous to us than we have with our respective

domestic animals. By the same token, though, a world as different as

Talwin isn’t going to breed anything that’ll affect us … at least,

nothing that’ll produce any syndrome modern medicine can’t easily slap

down. Tryntaf knows I know that much. The thought had flashed through

Flandry in part of a second. “I mean allergens and other poisons.”

“Some. They cause no serious trouble. The bioform is basically akin to

ours, L-amino proteins in water solution. Deviations are frequent, of

course. But you or I could survive awhile on native foods, if we chose

them with care. Over an extended period we would need dietary

supplements. They have been compounded for emergency use.”

Flandry decided that Tryntaf lacked any sense of humor. Most Merseians

had one, sometimes gusty, sometimes cruel, often incomprehensible to

men. He had in his turn baffled various of them when he visited their

planet; even after he put a joke into their equivalents, they did not

see why it should be funny that one diner said, “Bon appétit” and the

other said, “Ginsberg.”

Sure. They differ, same as us. My life could depend on the personality

of the commandant down there. Will I be able to recognize any chance he

might give me?

He sought to probe his companion, but was soon left alone on grounds of

work to do, except for the close-mouthed rating who tail-sat by the

door.

Watching the view took his mind partly off his troubles. He could pick

up visual clues that a layman would be blind to, identify what they

represented, and conclude what the larger pattern must be.

Talwin had no moon–maybe once, but not after the invader star had

virtually wrecked this system. Flandry did see two relay satellites

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