Iceworld

The Karella had indeed left the earth’s atmosphere, but had not returned to her previous height. Two-way communication had been re-established — Ken wished he knew just when — and Feth was once more controlling the torpedo which carried the scientist. The process of getting aboard was no more complicated than usual. Ken left the two “live” boxes in the air lock for the time being, having set their refrigerators to the same power as the first had seemed to require; the other two, partly filled with mineral specimens, he brought inside. Drai greeted him rather sourly as he emerged from his metal chrysalis.

“So you’re finally back. What did you get, if anything?” Ken eyed him with the closest approach to a defiant expression he had yet worn.

“Very little. Thanks to the slight distraction you seem to have engineered, the natives had other things to do than talk to me.”

“How was I to know that the ship’s hull would set off a chain reaction in the local vegetation? I should think if anything could do it, it would have happened long ago from some other cause.”

“I seem to recall telling you of the danger myself. And it may have happened before; the natives seemed to have fairly well organized means of dealing with it.”

“Then the fire is out?”

“Not quite. It will probably react for some hours yet. What I dislike is your habit of assuming that I am either a liar or a fool. I told you what happened to the piece of vegetation I picked up; I told you what I was doing with the native in the matter of learning his language. You were listening to me most if not all of the time. What possessed you to come down the way you did?”

“Because I doubted what you told me.” Drai made the statement without circumlocution; he apparently felt he was on secure ground. “You said that there had been no talk between you and the native on the subject of tofacco; you even said that you doubted that this was the same native we’ve been trading with.”

“I said I wasn’t sure he was the same. That’s minor, though — go ahead.”

“The first day, while you were down talking to him, the signal came from the fixed transmitter, indicating that they were ready to trade.”

“I should think that would support my veracity. I was not near the transmitter. Ask Feth — he landed me.”

“That’s what I thought, for a while. But today, which was the usual interval after a signal, I sent down another torpedo while you were having your ‘language lesson’— and nothing happened! There was no one there.”

“You mean no one gave you any tofacco.”

“No one took the metal, either. I’d be willing to believe they were trying to cheat me, if it had gone without anything in return; but that doesn’t fit. I decided you had let something slip while I wasn’t listening, and came down to see what you were up to.”

“Skipping for the moment the question of how I could possibly tell whether or not you were listening, I’m not sure whether to be glad you think me stupid rather than dishonest. I agree that my native may be your trader, in that case; he might have decided to go to the transmitter later in the day, after he had talked to me. He knew I couldn’t stay long. In that case, you have only yourself to thank that he didn’t go later — he was too busy. Also, a couple of the young ones were nearly killed by the chain reaction; he may not be too pleased with you now, if he’s connected the ship and the trading business. After all, remember he knows we come from Planet One on these trips.”

“That I don’t believe. He couldn’t possibly know it. That’s another reason I decided you were trying to cover up your own indiscretion. How do you know that two of the natives were endangered by the fire?”

“I saw them. As a matter of fact, I rescued them — rode them out of the way on the torpedo. I spent quite a while investigating the whole thing, since once you’d started it there was nothing else for me to do. I can prove that— I got some specimens of vegetation residue that may give some more information about the planet.” Drai eyed him silently for some moments.

“I’m not convinced yet, and you’d better convince me before your next drug-hunger comes due. If they’re going to stop trading, I’m going to stop distributing free samples.” Feth, in the background, emitted an Uncontrolled sound that was the equivalent of a gasp of dismay; Ken permitted an anxious expression to reach his face for a moment. He had had one brief experience of tofacco-hunger now, and did not want a prolonged one. Drai nodded as he saw the expression. “Yes. The stock is not very high, and if it’s to be the last, I’m going to get value for it. I have been given an idea from what you just told me. If this tale of having rescued two natives from death by overheating is true, you can just go back down and play on their gratitude. You can make out that you want to trade for tofacco. Surely they will gratify the hero who pulled them from terrible death. Particularly if he makes it clear that he’s in for a very uncomfortable time if they don’t. You go right back down — your armor’s warmed up by this time. We haven’t pulled in the other torpedo yet; as soon as you go on local control down there, we’ll send it over to you with the metal, and you can haggle to your heart’s content.” He ceased, still wearing a definite sneer.

“That fact that my knowledge of the language is still fragmentary does not bother you?”

“No. I think you know more than you say.”

“How about the fact that there are, at the moment, many other natives at the scene of the fire? I kept among the trees when they arrived so as not to be seen, but I can’t do that and trade at the same time. Do you want me to work out in the open? They’ll all be fire-fighting for a while, but I suppose they’ll want metal afterward.” He paused. “I don’t see how they can all be the one you’ve been trading with. But I suppose you don’t mind opening new bargains with the others— Laj Drai interrupted.

“You can wait.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t take very many torpedo loads of metal to satisfy them all, I’m sure.”

“I said you could wait.” Drai must have seen the satisfied expression that flickered for an instant on the scientist’s face, for he added, “I have another idea. The Karella will go down with you, and both watch and listen. Possibly if the native becomes recalcitrant, we can suggest lighting another fire.”

“Now you want the natives to get a good look at a full-sized space ship. You don’t care much about the law, do you?”

“You ought to know. Besides, they’ve seen it already. However, we’ll wait — for a while. I rather think we’ll land at a little distance from the scene of the fire, and drop in when it’s out. That way,” both eyes fixed themselves on Ken, “we’ll be sure who talks, and for how long.” He turned, pushed off from a convenient wall, and glided out of sight along the corridor. Feth followed him with one troubled eye.

“Ken, you shouldn’t use that tone of voice to him. I know you don’t like him — no one could — but remember what he can do. I thought, after you’d had a taste of that, you’d calm down a bit. Now he’s likely to hold out on you just for the fun of it.”

“I know — I’m sorry if I’ve gotten you in trouble too,” replied the scientist. “I just think he’s safer when angry. While he’s gone, now, we’ll have to talk fast. There’s work to be done. First of all, was he telling the truth about the short supply of tofacco? Does he keep it all in that refrigerated safe that he hands out our doses from?”

“Yes. And he’s probably telling the truth; most of the stuff goes back to the Sarrian system at the end of the season, and he doesn’t keep much on hand.”

“How much constitutes a dose? I didn’t get a really good look at what was inside the brick of frozen air, either time.”

“A little cylinder about so big.” Feth illustrated. “It comes that way, only in longer sticks — he cuts them into ten sections, and freezes each one up for a separate dose.”

“All right — that’s what I wanted to make sure of. Now, how good are the little refrigerators on those vivaria of mine? Will they freeze air?”

“Sure. Why?”

“You’ll see. Right now, I imagine I have another acting job to do; I don’t suppose anything would stop Drai from going down to the surface of Three, as he said.” Without explaining anything more, Ken headed toward the control room of the interstellar flyer.

He was quite right; the impatient drug-runner had already ordered the pilot down once more. Lee was making no objection this time, though his expression was not actually one of delight. The descent was uneventful,