He shrugged. “Rumors and the usual gossip. All I know is that the alarm bells began to ring, I got to a safety area‑‑so‑called,” he added, bitterly, remembering Jenny’s mangled body, “and the next thing I knew I was being dragged out of the cabin and hauled down a ladder. Period.”
“Well, then, here it is. We don’t know where we are. We don’t know what Sun this is. We don’t know even approximately what star cluster we’re in. We were thrown off course by a gravitational storm‑‑that’s the layman’s term, I won’t bother explaining what causes it. We lost our orientation equipment with the first shock, and we had to locate the nearest star‑system with a potentially habitable planet, and get down in a hurry. So I’ve got to take some astronomical sighting, if I can, and locate some known stars‑-I can do that with spectroscopic readings. From there I may be able to triangulate our position in the Galactic Arm, and do at least part of the computer re-programming from the planet’s surface. It is easier to take astronomical observations at an altitude where the air is thinner. Even if I don’t get to the mountain’s peak, every additional thousand feet of altitude will give me a better chance for accurate readings.” The girl looked serious and grave, and he sensed that she was holding fear at bay with her deliberately didactic and professional manner. “So if you can have me along on your expedition, I’m strong and fit, and I’m not afraid of a long hard march. I’d send my assistant, but he has burns over 30 per cent of his body surface and even if he recovers‑‑and it’s not certain he will–he won’t be going anywhere for a long, long time. There’s no one else who knows as much about navigation and Galactic Geography as I do, I’m afraid, so I’d trust my own readings more than anyone else’s.”
MacAran shrugged. He was no male chauvinist, and if the girl thought she could handle the expedition’s long marches she could probably do it. “Okay,” he said, “it’s up to you. We’ll need rations for four days minimum, and if your equipment is heavy, you’d better arrange to have someone else carry it; everybody else will have his own scientific paraphernalia.” He looked at the thin shirt clinging damply to her upper body and added, a little harshly, “Drew warmly enough, damn it; you’ll get pneumonia.”
She looked startled, confused, then suddenly angry; her eyes snapped at him. but MacAran had already forgotten her. He said to the Captain, “When do you want us to start? Tomorrow?”
“No, too many of us haven’t had enough sleep,” said Leicester, dragging himself up again from what looked like a painful doze. “Look who’s talking‑‑and half my crew are in the same shape. I’m going to order everybody but half a dozen watchmen to sleep tonight. Tomorrow, except for basic work crews, we’ll dismiss everyone for the memorial services for the dead; and there’s a lot of inventorying to do, and salvage work. Start‑‑oh, two, three days from now. Any preference about a medical officer?”
“May I have Ewen Ross if the chief can spare him?”
“I’s okay by me'” Leicester said, and sagged again, evidently for a split second asleep where he sat. MacAran said a soft, “Thank you, sir,” and turned away. Camilla Del Rey laid a hand, a feather’s touch, on his arm.
“Don’t you dare judge him,” she said is a low, furious voice, “he’s been on his feet since two days before the crash on a steady diet of wakers, and he’s too old for that! I’m going to see he gets 24 hours straight sleep if I have to shut down the whole camp!”
Leicester pulled himself up again. “–wasn’t asleep,” he said firmly. “Anything else, MacAran, Lovat?”
MacAran said a respectful, “No, sir,” and slipped quietly away, leaving the Captain to his rest, his First Officer standing over him like-the image touched his mind in shock‑‑‑a fiercely maternal tiger over her cub. Or over the old lion? And why did he care anyhow?
Chapter TWO
Too much of the passenger section was either flooded with fire‑prevention foam, or oil‑slick and dangerous; for that reason, Captain Leicester had given orders that all members of the expedition to the mountain were to be issued surface uniforms, the warm, weatherproof garments meant for spaceship personnel to wear on visiting the surface of an alien planet. They had been told to be ready just after sunrise, and they were ready, shouldering their rucksacks of rations, scientific equipment, makeshift campout gear. MacAran stood waiting for Camilla Del Rey, who was giving final instructions to a crewman from the bridge.