Paradise, they had quickly learned, was paved with ruts from which none could escape.
“With the full resources of the planetarium at their disposal they could not even locate their home system!” The four-and-twenty who commented did not try to hide their contempt. Their forcefulness was such that it bestirred a fragment of leaf to take flight. No one noticed because there were none present to notice. There were only the marooned bipeds, who were wholly immersed in transitory moments of their own.
” ‘Eels’, they called the scavengers. A short name for a lengthy entity. They avoided them neatly.”
“Pure accident, fortuitous coincidence,” insisted thirty-three others as they sought sixty-six of like mind to make three-thirds that would be less than a hundred. “They fled and hid and stumbled blindly out of the way. No credit attaches to such action. They did not try to understand, or resist, or meld.”
“They survived,” vouchsafed the supporters of the first. “They cannot be criticized for inelegance of solution. What matters are results.”
“They are favored by the grand intangibles. They alter variables in their favor.” The great mass of undecided declaimed emotionlessly. “We have seen so many come and go. They fleetingly amuse before their bones energize the landscape. These may yet join their predecessors. Meanwhile, it cannot be denied that they have advanced. Meanly, poorly, but advanced nonetheless. They deserve reflection.”
“I maintain that luck can be quantified as effectively as any natural law.” Doubters in their many descended on the individual who had thus postulated. Supporters lined up in their hundreds to argue on its behalf. And so it went, one of innumerable such discussions that raged above the islands. Below, the bipeds continued to amble ignorantly from place to place as storms in heaven went unperceived.
The sphere began to slow, eventually rolling to a stop at the end of the planetarium line. After lingering to assure themselves that the tunnel was otherwise deserted, Brink and Low exited and walked quickly back into the main chamber. Nothing had changed since their previous visit. The heap of collapsed ceiling still dominated the sleek floor. As before, there was no sign of the third member of their party. A check of his own unit showed Low that she had yet to reactivate her pen communicator.
“That’s it,” rumbled Low with finality. “She’s done enough exploring. I think it’s time we all got back together and discussed what we’re going to do next. She may have acquired information we can use.”
“You go and discuss it with her, Commander. There is something that I must do first.”
Low eyed his companion uncertainly. “Something you must do? I don’t follow, Ludger. There’s nothing here that ‘must’ be done. Come and help me find Maggie. If she won’t turn her communicator back on, we’re just going to have to track her down without them.”
Brink took a step backward. “Later.” A faint glaze had come over his eyes. “As I told you, there is something I must attend to first.” So saying, he turned to leave.
“Wait a minute.” Low hurried to block the scientist’s path. “What’s so important that it has to be done now, all of a sudden? What’s more important than finding out what’s happened to Maggie?”
The other eyed him in disbelief. “Why, the life crystals, of course. They need to be examined closely, studied in depth. They are the key.”
“The key to what?” Low had grown tense. “The key to finding food? The key to returning home? If it doesn’t include either of those, it’s not a key I’m interested in and it’s not a key we have to worry about right now.”
“Why I … I’m not sure, exactly.” Honest bemusement was writ large across the scientist’s face. “I just have this feeling that they’re the solution to everything.”
“I thought you never acted on ‘feelings.’ I had the impression you were a strict empiricist.”
“Which is why it is vital that we study these crystals now, in depth.” Brink turned to pleading. “Come with me, Commander. Even though you are a generalist, your input is valuable. You have insight, along with other abilities.”
“I’ll be glad to help you study the crystals,” Low agreed, “after we’ve found Maggie and discussed what we’re going to do next. What do you intend to study the crystals with? We have no equipment, no appropriate instruments.”
The scientist’s confusion visibly deepened, further adding to his unease. “I don’t know,” he replied crossly. “I will make do with whatever is available.”
Low was watching him carefully. It was an illogical response, uncharacteristic of the methodical, rational Brink that he’d come to know. Something was definitely wrong.
“Will you, now?”
“Ya!” Brink’s befuddlement had turned to defiance. “I will.” He peered down at his pockets, overflowing with softly lambent life crystals. “They need to be attended to.”
“Attended to?” Stepping out of the scientist’s path, Low followed alongside, trying to find in the other man’s expression some clue as to the source of his irrational behavior. Physically Brink seemed fine, undamaged by his recent brush with death. Were the crystals somehow affecting him adversely? Or was it something else?
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the storeroom.” Brink’s eyes were set resolutely forward.
“Why? You’re carrying around a whole suitcase full of the stuff. What do you need to go back there for?”
“To ensure those we left behind have not been disturbed. It would be terrible if they disappeared.”
Low skipped forward so that he was a little ahead of his companion and could look back at him. “Ludger, listen to me. They’re not going to get up and walk away, and there’s nobody else here. Nothing’s going to mess with any we might have overlooked. Why this sudden concern? And I still don’t know what you’re talking about when you say they need to be attended to.”
“I may have put that wrongly,” Brink replied slowly, “I need to attend to them. They emit a … I am not sure how to say it in English … a resonance, an all-pervasive warmth.”
“Don’t the ones you’re carrying warm you enough?”
“You don’t understand.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” replied Low carefully.
“I need to attend to them.”
“Okay, fine!” Low’d had enough of the scientist and his nascent peculiarities. “You go and attend to your precious crystals. I’ll come back for you after I’ve found Maggie. Suffocate yourself in them if you want. Stick a couple up your nose. You’re forgetting what’s important here, Ludger.”
Brink turned to look back at him, his eyes misty. “No, Commander. It is you who does not understand what is important here.”
“Is that so? Funny, I thought it was finding Maggie, food and water, and then searching for a way back home. Silly me.”
For a moment Brink seemed himself again. “All laudable ends, Commander. Each will happen in its own good time. But the crystals must be attended to first.”
“I wish time meant as little to me as it does to you, Ludger. The life crystal revived you. It didn’t make you immortal.”
“I know that.” Brink was walking rapidly backward now. “Though it is an interesting notion to ponder.”
“Swell. You go play with your crystals and ponder. I’m going to find Maggie.” With that he spun on his heel and stalked off in the opposite direction, leaving the scientist to his inexplicable obsession.
He sought but did not find. There was no sign of the errant journalist anywhere in the grand chamber. A few small side doors yielded to his entreaties. They revealed storerooms in varying degrees of disarray, but no Maggie.
His next thought was to ascend the rubble pile and return to the surface. As he debated whether to follow through on the idea, he couldn’t help but notice that he was standing before the last of the open four portals. One more island to visit, he told himself. One more spire to check out. Could Maggie have discovered how to use the simple interisland transport system on her own, and gone exploring? If she was somewhere on the fourth islet, it would certainly explain why they hadn’t encountered her, and why she had failed to respond to his repeated shouts and calls.
He considered. Brink was preoccupied with his crystals.
Why not make a quick visit to the last spire while daylight remained?
By now he was as comfortable with the transport system as with the BART trains back home. Except, he thought as he mounted the platform and hurriedly entered the sphere, back home hideous unnamed creatures didn’t come lurching and listing their way in your direction in search of food and sustenance, intent upon indifferent mayhem and worse.
Of course that did depend, he mused as the sphere began to roll down its dark track, on which San Francisco or Oakland station you happened to be in at the time.
At first sight the interior of the fourth tower was no different from the first. It was filled with alien artifacts, many preserved in cases that reminded him strongly of the museum. But this was clearly no archive. Too many containers were stacked high atop one another or crowded too close to their neighbors to pass between. None were equipped with incomprehensible labels or responded with explanatory projections to his questioning touch. There was about the entire vast assemblage an air of long disuse, of a warehouse where last-minute items and forgotten inventory had been haphazardly stowed.