back from the bows of the wreck and the other a similar distance from the stern,
although it was impossible to say just then which was which, and he had learned
that there were another two viewports in identical positions on the side hidden
from him.
He could also see the loose, transparent folds of Tyrell’s portable airlock
clinging to the hull like a wrinkled limpet and, beside it, the tiny figure of
what could only be the scoutship’s Orligian medic, Krach-Yul.
Fletcher, Mufchison, and Conway landed beside the Orligian. They did not speak
and they tried hard not to think so that Prilicla, who was slowly circling the
distressed vessel, would be able to feel for survivors with the minimum of
emotional interference. If anything lived inside that wreck, no matter how
faintly the spark of life glowed, the little empath would detect it.
“This is very strange, friend Conway,” said Prilicla after nearly fifteen
minutes had passed and they were all radiating feelings of impatience in spite
of themselves. “There is life on board, one source only, and the emotional
radiation is so very faint that I cannot locate it with accuracy. And contrary
to what I would expect in these circumstances, there are no indications that the
survivor is in a distressed condition.”
“Could the survivor be an infant?” Krach-Yul asked, “Left in a safe place by
adults who perished, and too young to realize that there is danger?”
Prilicla, who never disagreed with anyone because to do so might give rise to
unpleasant emotional radiation from the other party, said, “The possibility
cannot be dismissed, friend Krach-Yul.”
“An embryo, then,” Murchison said, “who still lives within its dead parent?”
“That is not impossible, either, friend Murchison,” Prilicla replied.
“Which means,” the Pathologist said, laughing, “that you don’t think much of
that idea, either.”
“But there is a survivor,” the Captain said impatiently, “so let’s go in and get
it out.”
Fletcher wriggled through the double seal of the portable airlock and under the
folds of tough, transparent plastic which, when inflated, would form a chamber
large enough for them to work at extricating the survivor and, if necessary,
provide emergency treatment. Murchison and Conway, meanwhile, spenf several
minutes at each of the tiny viewports, which were so deeply recessed that their
helmet lights showed only areas of featureless leathery tegument.
When they joined the Captain in the lock, Fletcher said, “There are only so many
ways of opening a door. It can hinge inward or outward, unscrew in either
direction, slide open, or dilate. The actuator for this one appears to be a
simple recessed lever which—Oh!”
The large metal hatch was swinging open. Conway tensed, waiting to feel the
outward rush of the ship’s air tugging at his suit and inflating the portable
lock, but nothing else happened. The Captain grasped the edge with both hands,
detached his foot magnets so that his legs swung away from the hull, and drew
his head deep inside the opening. “This isn’t an airlock but a simple access
hatch to mechanisms and systems situated between the inner and outer hulls. I
can see cable runs, plumbing, and what looks like a—”
“I need an air sample,” Murchison said, “quickly.” “Sorry, ma’am,” Fletcher
said. He let go with one hand and pointed carefully, then went on, “It seems
obvious that only the inner hull is airtight. It should be safe enough for you
if you site your drill in the angle between that support bracket and cable loom
just there. I don’t know how efficient their insulation is, but that cable is
too thin to carry much power. The color coding suggests that their visual range
is similar to ours, wouldn’t you say?”
“I would,” Murchison agreed.
Conway said quickly, “If you use a Five drill it will be wide enough to take an
Eye.”
“I intend doing that,” she said dryly.
The drill whirred briefly, the sound conducted through the metal of the hull and
the fabric of Conway’s suit, and a sample of the ship’s atmosphere hissed
through the hollow drill-head and into the analyzer.
“The pressure is a little low by our standards,” she reported quietly, “but that