Then the powerful gravity took hold. The wind lashed out with a fresh volley of sleet. The slush extracted heat from bodies accustomed to equatorial waters. The thin atmosphere declined to push back the internal pressures in lungs and body cavities.
The expression of triumph vanished in a look of shock. Hands were clasped over eyes and ear membranes. Mouths opened, distended chests deflated. The look of shock gave way to agony.
From the low rock walls along the edge of the field came a shout. Shaggy figures rushed out, the sleet striking harmlessly against thick fur, the slush seeking in vain to draw heat from insulation perfected over ages of exposure to varying extremes. The heavy gravity and thin air no more troubled them than seaweed and water disturb a fish, and now the first shaggy figures reached these peculiar blue-green things, hesitated, then put their minds on what really counted, grasped the shells and broke off the first small bits.
An instant later, other blue-green things appeared, with other shells.
More humanoids came splashing through the slush, each seizing one of the precious shells, and each carefully breaking off a small piece.
More blue-green shell bearers appeared, to announce their arrival with gruff coughs and screams.
Here was wealth unending!
The landing ground swarmed with shaggy humanoids.
The blue-green figures multiplied in successive waves of horrified shock.
When an unmanageable catastrophe seemed certain, an amplified voice boomed out in the local tongue that only those who got back before the sun bit the edge of the world could trade their shells. For the time of darkness and moon, a new kind of shell was to be given out.
The humanoids squinted into the storm with practiced gaze, and left in a rush across the field.
Centran stretcher-bearers now filed out, to carry the writhing blue-green forms to a ship at the far edge of the landing ground, which was to serve as combination pressure chamber and first-aid center. Meanwhile another screen showed a landing ground on a different planet, where another scout ship was just settling down. The first scout ship now lifted, to be melted shortly into scrap, as the crushers moved out to grind up the pebbly surface where it had landed.
Towers watched thoughtfully. Now the question was, would the teleports be able to use their ability to escape?
Logan said finally, “Either they’re in no hurry to go home, or they can’t.”
“When they’re startled, they apparently can’t use their power. I imagine they’ve never been startled like this before.”
“In that case,” said Logan smiling, “we will supply the transportation.”
“And everything possible will have to be done to learn their language. Meanwhile, we may be able to find out something more about this planet.”
While the ships carrying the dazed teleports were on their way back toward their home planet, the disguised pickups were already there—little things that drifted quietly down in the night. In the waters close off shore, careful reproductions of the stretched-out alligators served as reconnaissance vehicles and it became clear that the locals had a number of secrets they hadn’t yet disclosed.
On the basis of all Towers had seen, it was evident that the natives teleported out of the water onto the land, or from one place on land to another place on land, but they hadn’t been seen to teleport into the water. The trouble was, there were times when a number of natives vanished at once, and didn’t show up elsewhere. What had happened? The obvious answer seemed to be that they had gone into the water somewhere out of sight of the pickups. But then, why were they never seen to do it? There were times when a raiding party surprised a band of locals on land, and Towers had watched fights where the sequence of shifts in position was a fantasy of rapid flickerings from spot to spot as the local inhabitants tried to convert a superiority in known local positions into an advantage that would place them behind the attackers for just a second or two. This rapid shift in position was never seen in the water, the only maneuvers there being fancy swimming or sudden escapes to a location on land.
Glossip, listening to Towers’ report on the situation, sat back, frowning.
“Where,” Towers was saying, “do they go? Our coverage, on land, is about perfect.”
“Somewhere, Towers, they’ve got a cavern, or a set of hollowed-out tunnels, that we haven’t found.”
“If so, we can’t detect them.”
“They might be too deep to detect.”
“Well, you may be right, sir. But there’s another possibility.”
Glossip looked uneasy. “What?”
“Suppose that some tens, hundred, or even thousands of years ago, another race capable of space travel landed on this planet?”
Glossip winced. “You think when these teleports vanish completely, they’re going to another planet?”
“It’s a possibility, sir. You notice how neatly they responded to the arrival of the scout ships. It almost seemed as if they’d had practice.”
Glossip thought it over without enthusiasm.
“In which case, Towers, we may run into them on another planet.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then we’ll have to study them continuously, to learn everything we can. We don’t want to be unprepared a second time. But—if they have another planet, or several other planets, mustn’t they have experienced already the shocks they came up against this time?”
“Probably some of them would have experienced them, but those that did would have died. Really severe conditions stop them from teleporting, and when they can’t teleport, how do they get back to let anyone know what’s happened? In their case, the bearer of really evil tidings can’t travel.”
“Then the race would end up only on planets fairly well suited to it, and would be denied knowledge of planets severely unsuited to it.”
“Yes, sir. And with their lack of adaptability, minor changes could make a planet severely unsuited to them.”
“We’ll have to send out a warning on planets of this type. Luckily, we’re not too anxious to acquire planets of this type. Well, Towers, I hope you haven’t noticed any other little anomalies.”
“There is one other thing that has us puzzled.”
Glossip looked apprehensive. “What’s that?”
“According to our picture of this, when they teleport, either from water or air, there should be a clap, as the air rushes in to fill the space vacated.”
“There’s no sound, so far as we’ve noticed. Except for a clatter, when these shells drop to the deck.”
“But, you seee, they vacate a space, so why isn’t there a clap as the air rushes in to fill the empty space?”
“It follows the space must not be empty.”
“But in that case, sir, they evidently replace the air when they depart. How? All we can think of is that they teleport in one direction, and air instantaneously goes in the other direction. Air from the space to which they teleport fills the space which they empty.”
Glossip looked exasperated. “As soon as we work out the details of this, Towers, our troubles multiply. Look here. If they do it that way, it follows that they vacate the space into which they teleport their own bodies. We could do without this complication. It’s bad enough that they can teleport themselves. What do we get into if we find they can reverse-teleport objects in the opposite direction?”
Towers shook his head.
“At least, we’ve never seen any sign that they do that. We’ve never known them to arrive in anything but empty space—that is, space empty so far as large bodies of solids or liquids are concerned. It seems to follow that, for some reason, they can’t do it.”
“Then,” said Glossip, looking relieved, “that solves that problem.”
“No,” said Towers regretfully, “it just shifts it around a little.
“We’ve never known one of them to teleport anywhere without coming out in empty space. We’ve supposed that they get a signal from their homing object. That seems to make sense. But how do they know whether the space adjacent to that homing object is clear or not? Is the signal affected by the physical objects in its vicinity?”
“Maybe,” said Glossip, “they just try to come through, and if there isn’t enough empty space, they can’t do it.”
“Yes, sir. But no matter how you slice it, if there’s any signal picked up, either by trial and error, or their conscious or subconscious faculties, it follows that, to that extent, they’ve got a kind of radar operating in the vicinity of any homing object they’ve managed to plant in somebody else’s territory.”
Glossip thought it over, and swore. “Well, we can count on it, any time a life form has an advantage, it will wring out the last drop of gain, at the expense of other life forms. Let’s just hope the return of their teleport invasion force has the effect on the rest that it ought to.”
When the first of the ships arrived, Towers watched intently as a special landing boat, covered with a thick tarry gunk, set down on one of the islands.