Inevitably, all communication ceased.
“Why did you let him?” Albumarak whispered to Yull.
“It was a promise,” she replied elliptically.
“But he’s a cripple!”
“Yes…” Yull was scanning the remotes; they were as normal as for any launch. “You never paired, did you?”
“We’ve always wanted to, but after hearing about the wild planetoid we both agreed it was too risky to start budding. But what does that have to do with—? Oh! No!”
“I think you worked it out. He’d never have told you, or anyone, but of course he couldn’t keep it from the doctors who treated him after his return. He thinks the reason he can’t pair anymore wasn’t due to frostbite, but to something done to him at Fregwil, maybe under Quelf’s instructions. Those who regard other folk as their inferiors—No time for more! Slack down! You visitors, copy us! There’s going to be a very loud noise!”
Those with experience set a prompt example, dropping to the ground as though prong-stabbed. From the corner of her eye Albumarak saw how reluctantly Quelf complied, and hoped she would fail to relax completely. If so, she would be taught a lesson by pain.
A lesson that she clearly well deserved.
The air was full of a familiar grinding noise, like the sound of pebbles on a headland fidgeting under the impact of the tide. This was always the most fearful moment. The launcher, if it failed, would do so now, when the charge on both the cylinder and the tube was at its peak.
No one was watching. No one could watch. All must be reported through sensors and monitors, at which Albumarak stared achingly. All normal—all normal—GO!
She struggled to remember that Karg had lived underwater, that he had survived frostbite, that he had resisted conditioning, that he had retained enough self-control not to become embittered at losing his chance of pairing, and indeed had lived half his life in the hope of just this opportunity. But then the sonic boom made the control-house rock, and he was gone.
When the echoes died away there was another noise: Quelf moaning. It was, as Albumarak had half expected, beneath her dignity to slump on the ground like everybody else. She had no doubt ruptured some unimportant tubule, which would heal. The rest of the company seemed to have reached the same conclusion, for no one was paying attention to her.
“How long do we have to wait before we hear from him?” Presthin asked.
“Oh, quite a while.” Yull curled her mantle in a cryptic grin. “But then it won’t just be us; it will be everyone who hears from him. Let’s go outside. There’s very little cloud. We should be able to see his drivers fire.”
Leaving Quelf to worry about herself, they quit the control-house. A number of portable telescopes had been provided; Presthin appropriated one at once.
She said what she had said before: “On Prutaj, you know, we aren’t all as bad as Quelf!”
“Working with Albumarak has taught me that much,” Yull replied. “And you’d agree, wouldn’t you, Theng?”
“Of course!” was the bluff and prompt reply. “Our only problem is apt to be with the ones who ran away from Fregwil—because they’ve never learned the meaning of an honest day’s work, and we have to support them until they do!”
“Things are going to change back home,” said Presthin, her eye to the ocular. “Of course, as you know, I’m not from Fregwil myself, but I can state that for too long the self-indulgence of that city has offended the ordinary folk on Prutaj. It’s been fun having the goodies they produced, but how many of them are directed at ensuring the survival of the folk? Since news of the wild planetoid broke there’s been a radical shift of attitudes. I like the young’uns at Fregwil now, and I used to loathe them! By the way, tell me something, Scholar Yull.”
“If I can.”
“Do you honestly believe we can survive in space?”
“There it goes!”
A unison cry greeted fire blooming at the zenith. Karg’s cylinder had reached altitude and was spearing into space. For a while no one could think of anything else but that slowly fading gleam.