Please wait,” said Prilicla urgently, “and consider. The other crew aren’t injured, they emote no feelings of pain or phys-cal distress, only agitation at our close approach. So the matter clinically urgent. It will do no harm if you move back a short distance, temporarily, just to reassure them if nothing else. Friend Fletcher, I have a very bad feeling about this.”
He felt the captain’s continuing intransigence as well as the beginnings of hesitation as it spoke.
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” it said firmly. “My first requirement is to talk to them as soon as—”
“Sir!” Haslam broke in. “They’re pulling free of our tractor beam, on their main thrusters, for God’s sake, at over three Gs. They’ve no attitude control—otherwise they’d have checked their own spin by now. That’s stupid, suicidal! They’re diving into atmosphere, and when they move farther ahead and their ion stream hits us, we’ll be toasted like a …”
It broke off as the hot, blue spear streaming from the other ship’s main drive flickered and died, immediately reducing the fear feelings coming from Rhabwar’s control deck.
“Friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla gently, “I told you that they didn’t want us to close with them, but neither do they want to kill us.”
The captain used an Earth-human expression that his translator refused to accept.
“You were right, Doctor,” it went on, “but we’ll need to get very close to them indeed, unless we want to watch them burn up in atmosphere.”
CHAPTER 5
Terragar belonged to a class of vessel that had been designed to operate in the weightless and airless conditions of space, and to dock only with other ships or orbiting supply and maintenance facilities. It was not an aerodynamically clean object and the structural projections supporting its complex of long-range sensors and mapping cameras made it resemble a cross between a falling brick and a stick insect. The congenitally tactless Naydrad observed that physically it bore a close resemblance to their chief.
Even though he knew that his Cinrusskin body was unusually well-formed and beautiful, Prilicla had neither responded nor taken offense. Kelgians always said exactly what they felt; telling a lie was for them a complete waste of time. It was the strong, unspoken emotions of Naydrad and the others, the feelings of loyalty, admiration, concern, and deep personal regard, that were important. Besides, the crucial words and feelings were coming from the people on the control deck.
Catch up to them and kill that spin,” the captain was saying urgently. “There’s no need to be so gentle, dammit! Check all motion, refocus to full strength, and drag them back. We have the power.”
Yes, but no, sir,” Haslam replied, its voice hurried but respectful. “The tractor acts on the nearest surface. If we drag them back too suddenly we’ll peel off most of their outer skin and external hull structures. I have to be gentle to avoid pulling the whole ship apart.”
“Very well,” said the captain. “Be gentle, then, but faster.”
“We’re picking up atmospheric heating,” Dodd’s voice reported; “so are they.”
In the direct-vision panel Prilicla could see the ponderously spinning shape of Terragar as the tractor beam enclosed it in a pale blue mist and drew it closer. The tumbling action was gradually slowing to a stop, but both ships were entering the upper atmosphere much too quickly for the safety of the vessel ahead. Through the confusion of emotional radiation coming from Rhabwar he could still feel the intense fear mixed with dogged determination emanating from the other crew. His empathic reading just did not make sense. Not for the first time, he wished he could know what others were thinking instead of feeling.
“You’re getting there,” said the captain. “Once you kill the rest of that spin, try to position them so they’ll go in tail-first. The stern structure is stronger than the forward section and will burn away slower than the control canopy. Can’t you slow them down faster than that?”
“In order,” said Haslam. “Yes, sir. No, sir. I’m trying, sir.” The other ship was stable and directly ahead of them, with its control canopy continuously in view. The crew had donned heavy-duty spacesuits with the helmets thrown back. Their mouths were opening and closing widely as if they were shouting, and they were still making pushing motions with their hands. From his present viewpoint Prilicla could not see the heating of the ship’s stern, but the peripheral sensor arrays and their spidery support structures were turning bright red and being bent backwards by the tenuous gale of near-vacuum that was blowing past them. Suddenly one of them tore free and there was a loud, metallic clang as it glanced harmlessly off Rhabwar’s superstructure.