Heavy Planet

done specifically for Beetchermarlf; he had only been told about this. He could not participate in the help. He could not even see very much of it happening. He had to sit and wait for verbal reports. Many human beings both more mature and more sedate by nature than Benj Hoffman would have had trouble enduring that situation. His feelings showed clearly enough in his next words, as far as the human hearers were concerned. Easy made a half-completed gesture of protest. Then she controlled herself; it was too late, and there was always the chance that the Mesklinite would not read as much into the words and tone as the speaker’s mother had. “But you can’t just sprawl there and do nothing!” Benj exclaimed. “Your men could be drowning this very second. Do you know how much air they had in their suits?” This time temptation won. Realization of what he had said caught up with him within seconds, and in less than half a minute he had what he hoped were better chosen words on their way to Dhrawn. “I know you’re not doing nothing but I just don’t see how you can simply wait around for results. I’d have to go outside myself and chip ice or something, but I can’t, up here.”

“I have done all that can be done in the way of starting rescue action,” Dondragmer’s response to the first part of the message finally arrived. “There is no need to worry about the air for many hours yet. We don’t respond to its lack as I understand you human beings do. Even if the hydrogen concentration goes too low for them to stay conscious, their body machinery will just slow down more and more for several eights of hours. No one knows just how long and it probably isn’t the same for everyone. You needn’t worry about their — drowning — I think was the word you used, if I have guessed its meaning correctly. “All the tools we have are in use. There would be no way for me to help outside if I did go, and it would take me longer to get reports from Reffel through your people. Perhaps you can tell me how his search for Kervenser is coming on. I assume that nothing meaningful has turned up, since the light from his flier is still visible from here and his flight pattern has not changed. Perhaps there is description you could pass on to me. I?d like to know as much about this region as possible.? Easy once again stifled an exclamation before it could be noticed by Benj. As the boy shifted his attention to the screen carrying the helicopter’s signal, she wondered whether Dondragmer were merely trying to keep her son out of his figurative hair or whether he had some real grasp of the human need to be busy and feel useful. The latter seemed unlikely but even Easy Hoffman, who probably knew Mesklinite nature better than any other human being then alive, was not sure. Benj had not been watching the other screen at all and had to ask whether anything had been happening. One of the observers replied briefly that all anyone had seen had been a surface of pea-to-house-sized cobbles, interrupted by frozen pools similar to the one holding the Kwembly. There had been no sign of the other helicopter or its pilot. No one really expected any for some time. The search had to be slow to be complete. If Kervenser had actually crashed this close to his starting point the accident would probably have been seen from the cruiser. The little fliers did carry lights and Kervenser had certainly been using his. Benj relayed this information to Dhrawn, then threw in an obvious question of his own. “Why is Reffel making such a slow and careful search so close to you? Wasn’t Kervenser at least watched out of sight?” The delayed response provided a little relief for the boy’s feeling of helplessness. “He was, Benj. It seemed more reasonable to make a complete coverage centering here and starting outward, which would also have the advantage of providing more complete data for your scientists. If they can wait for the information, please tell Reffel I said to fly straight west along the valley until he can just see my bridge light, then resume the search pattern at that point.”

“Sure thing, Captain.” The conversation had been in Stennish, so none of the watching scientists had understood it. Benj did not bother to ask their approval before passing on the order in the same language. Reffel seemed to have no trouble understanding Benj’s accent and in due course his little machine headed west. “And what’s happening to our map?” growled a topographer. “You heard the captain,” replied Benj. “I heard something. If I’d understood it I’d have entered an objection but I suppose it’s too late now. Do you suppose when they return they’ll fill in the gap they’re leaving now?”

“I’ll ask Dondragmer,” the boy replied obligingly, but with an uneasy glance toward his mother. She had put on the unreadable expression which he could read all too well. Fortunately, the scientist was already leaving the communication room growling under his breath; and fortunately Benj turned his attention back to Reffel?s screen before Easy lost her gravity. Several other nearby adults who had gleaned the substance of the conversation with Dondragmer were also having trouble keeping their faces straight. For some reason they all enjoyed putting one over on the scientific group. But Benj failed to notice. He was still worried about Beetchermarlf. Dondragmer’s assurance that lack of hydrogen would not be an immediate problem had helped but the idea of the crewmen being frozen solidly into the ice was still bothersome. Even if this took longer to happen under the Kwembly’s hull, it would happen at last. It might even have happened already. It should be possible do something. Heat melts ice. Heat is energy. The Kwembly carried enough energy to lift her out of Dhrawn’s gravity well, though there was no way to apply it to that task. Didn’t the huge vehicle have any sort of heaters in its life-support equipment which could be disassembled and used outside? No. The Mesklinites were unlikely ever to need heat on Dhrawn. Even the parts of the planet where internal heat seemed to be lacking were kept close to fifty degrees absolute by the sun. The regions they would have most to do with for many years yet, such as Low Alpha’s center, were too hot rather than too cold for them. The Kwembly did have refrigeration equipment powered from its fusion converters but as far as Benj knew, it had never been used since the original testing. It was expected to be useful during penetration of the central part of Low Alpha, not scheduled for at least an Earth year yet, possibly even later. The fate of the Esket had made some of the original plans rather shaky. But a refrigerator is a heat pump. Even Benj knew that and at least in theory, most pumps are reversible. This one must have, somewhere outside the cruiser’s hull, a high-temperature section for dumping heat. Where was it? Was it removable? At what temperature did it run? Dondragmer must know. But wouldn’t he have thought of this already? Maybe not. He was far from stupid, but his background wasn’t human. What physics he knew had been picked up from non-Mesklinites long after he was adult. It would not, presumably, be part of the basic stock of knowledge which most intelligent beings lump under the concept of “common sense.” Benj nodded at this thought, spent another second or two reminding himself that even if he made himself look silly this might be worth it and reached for his microphone switch. This time there was no amusement among the surrounding adults as the message pulsed toward Dhrawm. None of those present knew enough about the engineering details of the land-cruisers to answer the questions about the refrigerator heat-dump, but all knew enough physics to be annoyed with themselves for not having thought of the question earlier. They waited for Dondragmer’s answer with as much impatience as Benj. “The refrigerator is one of your solid-state electronic devices which I don’t pretend to understand in detail,” the captain’s words finally reached the station. He was still using his own language, to the annoyance of some of the listeners. “We haven’t had to use it since the acceptance tests; the weather here has sometimes been pretty warm, but not really unbearable. It’s a simple thing to describe; there are metal plates in all the rooms which get cold when we turn the power on in the system. There is a metal bar, a sort of loop, running along each side of the hull up at the top. It starts near the stern, runs forward about half a body-length to the port side of the center-line, crosses over about four body-lengths back of the bridge and goes back along the other side to a point even with its start. It runs through the hull at start and finish, one of the few things that does. I assume that bar must be the heat radiator. I see, as you imply I should, that there must be such a part to the system and that it must be outside. Nothing else seems to qualify. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be further from the ice than it is, even if it runs hot enough to melt it, which I don’t know, offhand. I realize that it could be made as hot as you please by running enough electricity through it but I’m not sure I like the idea of trying to take if off the hull for such a purpose.”

“I suppose it would wreck your refrigeration system, especially if you couldn’t get it back,” agreed Benj. “Still, maybe it’s not that bad. Let me find an engineer who really knows that system. I have an idea. I’ll call you back later.” The boy slid out of his seat without waiting for Dondragmer’s reply, and left the communication room on the run. The moment he was gone, the observers who had not understood the language asked Easy for a summary of the conversation, which she gladly supplied. When Benj returned with an engineer in tow, those in hearing frankly abandoned their jobs to listen. Several heartfelt prayers of thanksgiving must have ascended when it was noted that the newcomer was not a linguist, and the boy was interpreting for him. The two settled into seats before the screens, and Benj made sure he knew what to say before energizing his microphone. “I should tell the captain that most of the fastenings holding the radiator bar to the Kwembly’s skin are sort of nails; they only go a little way into the skin and can be pried out without damaging the hull. It might be necessary to use cement to fasten them back in afterward but the supplies are there. The connections at the rear will have to be cut, though. The alloy isn’t very hard and saws will be able to handle it. Once detached, the bar can be used as a resistance heater simply by pushing its ends into the D.C. holes in a power box. I can tell the captain