CHAPTER 10
“They do not grieve overmuch,” postulated a trio of Cocytans hovering in the vicinity of Robbins’s hair. Their presence did not disturb a follicle, did not brush suggestively against her skin. But the temperature in the vicinity of her neck rose one-quarter of a degree, too slight to be noticed.
“If anything is to happen, it will take time,” declared a hundred others, watching. “Each species has its own time frame.”
“If they do not grieve for their dead, then they cannot be counted very intelligent.” The trio was confident.
“If only they knew that there was much they could do,” remarked a small dozen thought-forms. “So much at their fingertips, so much for them to discover. It is better they do not linger.”
“Indeed it is,” murmured a cooperative pair, “for they have lost a third of their complement already. We see no hope in these, just as we saw no hope in those who came before them. They are an entertaining diversion, no more.”
“Did any think it would be otherwise?” queried the hundred.
The one who had exerted a mighty effort, only to see its presence in the real world disparaged as a ghost of an illusion, remained defiant.
“They will grieve, and then resume looking. I think it is in their nature. They will not give up.”
“They will give up, after a while. The isolation and the hopelessness in which they see themselves beats the best of them down.” The dozen were merciless. “Another day or two of their time will see them start to go mad. The precedent is there.”
“These are different,” insisted the first. “They have to be more determined than those who preceded them. They are physically weak and unimposing. Therefore their development must have tended to the mental.”
“Intelligence is useless without drive.” The dozen split and split again, but their thoughts remained cohesive.
“Have they drive? We will see. A diversion.” The hundred were joined by nine, and became a thousand.
“Wasteful expenditure of energy.” They became silent, waiting and watching.
Maggie Robbins had flung herself against Low and was pounding her fists into his chest. The startled commander tried to grab her wrists, but she was much stronger than she looked. At least, he reflected, she wasn’t hitting him in the face. How much of her anger was directed at him and how much at their latest misfortune he was unable to tell.
She quickly enlightened him. “You son of a bitch! You told him to try that entrance!”
“Now, just a minute, Maggie.” He finally succeeded in getting a grip on her forearms and held her off. She had been so completely in control of herself, so utterly professional up till now, that the sudden emotional flare-up had caught him completely by surprise.
“In case you’ve forgotten,” he reminded her coldly, “you voted for me to stay in command. Being in command means telling others what to do.” He nodded curtly at the crumpled body of their companion. “Would you feel better if it was me lying over there instead of Brink?”
She hesitated, took one last futile swing at him, and then yanked her arms away. Wiping at her eyes, she discovered that she was annoyed at herself more than at Low. Not only for losing control, but for making an insupportable accusation. She realized suddenly that she’d been putting off the enormity of what had happened to them. Brink’s death had shattered the wall she’d erected between her emotions and this strange new reality. She’d allowed one wonder after another to mask an unpleasant inevitability.
Now it had all come crashing down on her at once, clear and sharp in her mind. Brink was dead, they weren’t going home, and she’d never see her friends or family again. And in a few days, or if they were lucky, a few weeks, she and Low would be dead too.
“Would you prefer it was me?” she shot back. “I know you think I’m pretty useless. You’d probably trade my life for Brink’s in a minute.”
“No,” he said quietly and without hesitation. “No, I wouldn’t. I don’t think like that.” Again he looked past her. “I’m as sorry as sorry can be for what’s happened. I liked Ludger… well, I can’t say that I liked him, but I respected the hell out of him. He was the best at what he did. If he was a little too devoted to himself, well, I’ve been accused of being something of a cold fish myself.” He raised his gaze.
“No one could have foreseen that the whole ceiling around the portal was ready to collapse. It looked solid enough to me. It must’ve looked solid to Ludger too. Remember, he was the one with the degree in geology. If he’d thought it was unstable, I’m sure he would’ve said something.”
She shook her head, wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Naw, not Ludger. He would’ve gone ahead anyway. His curiosity would’ve overridden his common sense. I got to know him well enough to know that, anyway.”
“It doesn’t matter. At least he went quickly. We’re probably both going to end up like him anyway.”
She stopped daubing at her eyes. “You really believe that?”
He shrugged. “I’m a realist, Maggie. We’ll keep trying, keep looking, but I’m not sanguine.” He swept an arm in a broad circle to encompass the gigantic chamber in which they found themselves. “I don’t know what any of this does, and I don’t know how to find out. That’s assuming any of it is still functional. Maybe Ludger could’ve done better.”
“There has to be a way to reactivate the asteroid-ship, a way to make it take us back to Earth.”
He smiled tolerantly. “Does there? Why should it be anything but a one-way trip? Even if the asteroid is capable of making a return journey, what makes you think it carries enough fuel, or whatever it utilizes for propulsion? We could figure out a way to start it back up and still go nowhere.”
“Then why did you push to come up this canyon?” Her tone was bitter. “If it’s so hopeless, why are we even trying?”
“It’s like Ludger said. The first rule of science is to disbelieve everything. So even though I’m convinced we’re not going anywhere, least of all home, I can’t let it stop me from searching. Science is always frustrating.”
“Well, if that’s the way science works,” she muttered, “then science sucks!”
All he could do was smile. “Only if you’re talking hydraulics. Wish I’d had some archaeology, but it wasn’t exactly a prerequisite for flight school.” He turned to examine their surroundings. “Might as well get started. Which way, Maggie?”
“You expect me to come with you?” She stared at him in disbelief. “So you can tell me to dive into the next hole or stick my head in the guillotine? No thanks, no thank you, Commander.” She made it sound like a curse. “If I’m going to die here, then I’m gonna spend my last few hours going my own way. Try acting on your own orders for a change.”
With that she whirled and stomped off in the opposite direction, no particular destination in mind, knowing only that she wanted to get away from him. She was thoroughly incensed … and thoroughly confused.
Low started after her, then halted. She was upset, frustrated, and badly frightened. She had every right to be. There was nothing he could do about it. The boundless energy that had served her so well on this journey as well as on innumerable foreign assignments only compounded her distress. Arguing would do no good, would only waste resources better conserved. In the coming days they were going to need whatever strength remained to them, mental as well as physical. Better to let her go her own way for a while and burn off some of the tension.
He didn’t think she’d go very far. The chamber was large but not excessively so, and he didn’t see her wandering about on the surface by herself for very long without checking back with him. Meanwhile, aloneness and isolation would calm her down faster than he could. They’d just listen, and wouldn’t shout back. When she got tired of railing at invisible demons, she’d come looking for him. She was a rational, reasonable individual and he doubted it would permanently strain their relationship.
Did they have a relationship? Whatever it was, he would deal with it as circumstances required.
Turning, he resumed his inspection of the grand chamber. Though still vast, it wasn’t as enormous as it had appeared at first glance. Except for the area immediately around the edges of the initial collapse, the ceiling seemed structurally sound. He couldn’t see any additional cracks or stress fractures. The rest of the roof wouldn’t have been subjected to the same forces as the more sensitive portion near the opening.