It is important for my narrative that one of the far-flung branches of Fleming’s Sydney Institute was located in the mouth of the Pesha River, in the scientific community lower Pesha, just forty kilometers from Little Pesha. Having learned about that, my Toivo naturally grew wary and said to himself, “Aha, so that’s whose work this is!”
Oh, by the way, the crawcrabs mentioned below are one of Fleming’s most useful creations, which first appeared when he was still a young worker in a ash farm on Lake O’Nega. Crawcrabs turned out to be creatures astonishing in their delicate taste, but for some reason they did well only in the small streams that fed the Pesha.
LITTLE PESHA. 6 MAY 99 6 AM
On 5 May, around 11 PM, in the resort village of Little Pesha (thirteen cottages, eighteen residents), panic rose. The cause of the panic was the appearance of a certain (unknown) number of quasibiological creatures of an extremely repulsive and even frightening appearance. The creatures moved on the village from cottage number 7 in nine clearly visible directions. These directions can be seen from the trampled grass, damaged bushes, by stains of dried slime on foliage, paving stone, on the outside walls and window ledges. All nine routes ended inside living quarters; to wit: in cottages numbers l, 4, 10 (on the verandas), 2, 3, 9, 12 (in the living room), 6, 11, and 13 (in the bedroom). Cottages 4 and 9 apparently are uninhabited…
As for cottage number 7, where the invasion began, someone clearly was living there, and it remains only to determine who that was — a stupid practical joker or an irresponsible dolt! Did he activate the embryophores on purpose, or did he miss the self-start? If he missed it, then was it by criminal negligence or ignorance?
Two things, however, bothered him. Toivo did not find any traces of the embryophore cases. That’s one. And two, at first he could not find any data on the person inhabiting cottage number 7. Or persons.
Suddenly, indignant voices were heard on the square, and in a minute, Toivo learned that the original inhabitant had appeared in the midst of the events himself, in person, and not alone, but with a guest.
He turned out to be a stocky, cast-iron-looking man in a travel jumpsuit and with a canvas sack from which came strange rustling and creaking noises. The guest acutely reminded Toivo of good old Duremar, right out of Aunt Tortilla’s pond — tall, long-haired, long-nosed, skinny, in vague rags covered with drying seaweed.
It was instantly established that the stocky, cast-iron inhabitant was Ernst Jurgen, who worked as an orthomaster operator on Titan and who was on vacation on Earth… He had two months leave a year on Earth — one month in winter, one in the summer — and he always spent the summer here on the Pesha in this very cottage… What monsters? Who exactly did you have in mind, young man? What monsters could there be in Little Pesha? Think about it. And you call yourself an emergency-squad member. What’s the matter, don’t you have anything else to do with your time?
Duremar, on the contrary, seemed totally earthbound. Moreover, he seemed local. His surname was Tolstov, and his name was Lev Nikolaevich. But something else about him was amazing, too. He worked and lived just forty kilometers away from here, in Lower Pesha, where for the last several years Fleming’s branch offices were flourishing.
It also turned out that this Ernst Jurgen and his old pal, Lev Tolstov, were passionate gourmets. They met here every day, in Little Pesha, because five kilometers upriver a little stream fell into the river, and it was full of crawcrabs, whatever they were. That was why Ernst Jurgen spent his vacation in Little Pesha, and that’s why he and his friend Lev Tolstov left early in the evening by boat to catch crawcrabs, and that’s why he and Lev would be very grateful to the emergency squad if they would leave them alone, since the crawcrabs (Ernst Jurgen shook the heavy sack from which emanated the strange sounds) are fresh only briefly, and that was right now…
This funny, noisy man could not understand that events could occur on Earth — not on Titan, or Pandora, or Yaula, but on Earth! in Little Pesha! — that could elicit fear and panic. Typical example of a professional space traveler. He could see that the village was empty, he could see a member of the emergency squad before him, he could see a representative of COMCON-2, he did not deny their authority, and he was ready to seek an explanation for all of it in anything as long as he did not have to admit that something could go wrong on his own Earth…
Then, when they managed to convince him that there had been an unexplained event, he was insulted — pouted like a child and walked away, dragging the sack with the precious crawcrabs, and sat down on the porch, his back to everyone, not wanting to see anyone or hear anything, shrugging from time to time and muttering to himself, “A vacation, they call it… You come once a year, and this has to happen… How could it be!”
Toivo, incidentally, was more interested in the reaction of his friend, Lev Nikolaevich Tolstov, who worked for Fleming, a specialist in the construction and activation into existence of artificial organisms. And this was the specialist’s reaction: at first, total incomprehension, goggling eyes and uncertain smile, befitting a man who thinks a joke is being played on him, and not a very clever one at that. Then: a perplexed frown, empty gaze that seemed inward-directed, and thoughtful motion of the jaw. And finally: an explosion of professional anger. Do you realize what you are saying? Do you have any knowledge of the subject? Have you ever seen an artificial creature? Ah, only in the newsreels? Well, let me tell you that there aren’t any and can’t be any artificial creatures that are capable of climbing into people’s bedroom windows. First of all, they are slow and clumsy, and if they do move, it’s away from people, not toward them, because natural biofields are contradicted, even a cat’s biofield… Further, what do you mean, ‘the size of a cow’?. Have you tried to figure how much energy is needed for an embryophore to develop to that mass in even an hour? There wouldn’t be anything left here, no cows left; it would look like an explosion!..
Did he think that there could have been activated embryaphores here of a type he did not know?
Certainly not. Embryophores like that did not exist in nature.
Then what happened here, in his opinion?
Lev Tolstov did not understand what had happened here. He had to look around before coming to any conclusion.
Toivo led him to look around, then went with Basil to the club to have a snack.
They had a cold meat sandwich, and Toivo tried to make some coffee. And then: “Mmmmm!” Basil said with his mouth full.
He swallowed mightily and, looking past Toivo, called out loudly: “Hold it! Where are you headed, son?”
Toivo turned around. There was a boy of twelve or so, lop-eared and tan, wearing shorts and an open shirt. Basil’s mighty cry had stopped him in the pavilion exit.
“Home,” he said challengingly.
“Come here, please!” Basil said.
The boy moved closer and stopped, his hands behind his back.
“Do you live here?” Basil asked ingratiatingly.
“We used to live here,” the boy replied. “In number six. Now we won’t live here anymore.”
“Who’s we?” Toivo asked.
“Me, Mama, and Papa. Rather, we were here on vacation and we live in Petrozavodsk.”
“And where are your parents?’
“Sleeping. At home.”
“Sleeping,” Toivo repeated. “What’s your name?”
“Kir.”
“Do your parents know you’re here?”
Kir hesitated, shuffled his feet, and said, “I came back here just for a minute. I had to get my galleyship. I worked on it for a whole month.”
“Your galley…” Toivo repeated, looking at the boy.
The boy’s face expressed nothing but patient boredom. It was obvious that only one thing concerned him: to get his galley and get home before his parents awakened.
“When did you leave here?”
“Last night. Everyone was leaving, and so did we. And we forgot the galley.”
“Why were they leaving?”
“There was a panic. Didn’t you know? Wow, what went on here! Mama got scared and Papa said, ‘Well, you know, let’s get out of here and go home.’ We got in the glider and flew off… So, can I go?”
“Wait a minute. Why was there a panic, do you think?”
“Because those animals came. Out of the woods … or the river. Everyone got scared of them for some reason and started running around. I was asleep; Mama woke me.”
“You weren’t afraid?”
He jerked his shoulder.