Eden

V

The sun was touching the horizon when they reached the knoll. The ship cast a long shadow across the sands of the plain. Before they entered, they searched the vicinity thoroughly, but found no traces of any visitor in their absence. The pile was working perfectly. The cleaning robot had managed to clear the halls and the library before becoming hopelessly stuck in the thick layer of broken plastic and glass that covered the laboratory.

After supper, which they wolfed down, the Doctor had to sew up the Captain’s wound, because it wouldn’t stop bleeding. Meanwhile the Chemist analyzed the water samples from the brook and pronounced it drinkable, though it contained a lot of iron, which spoiled the taste.

“It’s time to have a council of war,” said the Captain. They were sitting on air cushions in the library, the Captain in the middle, his white bandage like a hat.

“What do we know?” he began. “Well, we know that the planet is inhabited by intelligent beings, which the Engineer calls ‘doublers.’ The name doesn’t fit the thing that… But it doesn’t matter. We’ve come across various artifacts of the doubler civilization. First, an automated factory that we concluded was abandoned and gone haywire — I’m not so sure of that now. Second, mirrorlike domes on the hilltops, of unknown function. Third, masts that emit some kind of energy — we don’t know their function, either. Fourth, the flying disks, one of which we captured after an attack, operated, and crashed. Fifth, we saw their city, though from too great a distance to make out any detail. Sixth, the attack that I mentioned, in which a doubler set upon us an animal that was specially designed to throw a small fireball, which it seemed to operate or control until we killed it. Finally — seventh — we witnessed the covering of a burial ditch filled with dead inhabitants of the planet. That’s all — as far as I can remember. Correct me if I’ve made a mistake or left anything out.”

“That’s pretty much it,” said the Doctor. “Except for what happened the day before yesterday, in the ship…”

“True. And you were right — the creature was naked. Perhaps it was trying to escape, and in its panic crawled into the first opening at hand, which happened to be the tunnel leading to our ship.”

“A tempting hypothesis, but risky,” said the Doctor. “Being human, we make associations and interpretations that are human, we apply human laws, arrange facts into patterns brought from Earth. I am absolutely certain that we all thought the same thing this morning: that we had come upon the grave of victims of violence, of murder. But we don’t really know…”

“You don’t believe that,” objected the Engineer.

“It’s not a question of what I believe. Eden is not the place for our beliefs. The hypothesis, for example, about the doubler ‘siccing’ its electric dog on us…”

“What do you mean, a hypothesis? That’s what happened,” the Chemist and the Engineer said, almost together.

“You’re wrong. We have no idea why it attacked us. We might resemble some local cockroaches here, or game… But we saw it as an act of aggression, associating it with what we had just found, a thing that made such an impact on us that we lost our ability to think calmly.”

“And if we had kept calm and not fired immediately, it would have been our ashes stamped and scattered,” muttered the Engineer angrily.

The Captain said nothing, moving his eyes from one man to the other.

“We did what we had to do,” replied the Doctor, “but it is very likely that there was a misunderstanding. On both sides… You think we’ve fitted in all the pieces of this jigsaw puzzle? The factory supposedly abandoned several hundred years ago — what about that? Where does the factory fit in?”

There was silence.

“The Doctor’s right,” said the Captain. “We still know too little. The only advantage we seem to have is that they know nothing of us, since none of their roads — grooves — run near here. But we can hardly count on that ignorance continuing. Whatever we decide must take that into account.”

“At present we are virtually defenseless in this wreck,” said the Engineer. “All one would have to do is block up the tunnel to suffocate us like mice. We must act quickly, because at any moment we could be discovered, and although the hypothesis of doubler aggression may be only my ‘human association,’ I am incapable of reasoning in any other way. I propose we begin repairing all the units and engines — immediately.”

“And how long will that repair take?” asked the Doctor.

The Engineer hesitated. “You see?” the Doctor said wearily. “Why should we delude ourselves?

They’ll discover us before we finish. I’m no expert, but I know it will take weeks and weeks…”

“Unfortunately that’s true,” the Captain agreed. “And we’ll have to replenish our water supply.

And get rid of the contaminated water that’s flooded the lower level. Nor do we know if all the damage is repairable.”

“Another expedition will be necessary,” said the Engineer. “And more than one. They can be made at night. However, some of us — two or three — should stay near the ship. But why are we the only ones talking?” he asked, turning to the three other men, who had been silent so far.

“We ought to work as hard as possible on the ship, but study the doubler civilization, too,” the Physicist said slowly. “The two activities will interfere with each other. The number of unknowns is so great that no strategy will be of much help. One thing alone is certain: whatever course of action we choose, we face tremendous risk.”

“I think I see what you’re all saying,” said the Doctor in the same low, weary voice. “You want to make further expeditions, inasmuch as we now have the ability to deliver powerful blows — atomic blows. In self-defense, of course. Since this will mean taking on the whole planet, count me out, gentlemen. I have no desire to participate in what will be a Pyrrhic victory, Pyrrhic even if they don’t have atomic energy… which I wouldn’t bet on. What kind of engine runs the disks?”

“I don’t know,” said the Engineer, “but it isn’t atomic. I’m almost certain.”

“That ‘almost’ might cost us dearly.” The Doctor leaned back, closed his eyes, and rested his head on a fallen bookcase, as if he had no further intention of speaking.

“Squaring the circle,” muttered the Cyberneticist.

“And if we try to… communicate?” the Chemist asked.

The Doctor sat up straight, looked at him, and said, “Thank you. I was beginning to think nobody would say that!”

“But to attempt communication means to put ourselves at their mercy!” exclaimed the Cyberneticist, getting to his feet.

“Why?” the Doctor asked coldly. “We can arm ourselves first, even with atomic throwers. But we don’t sneak up on their towns and factories at night.”

“All right… So how do you envisage an attempt at communication?”

“Yes, tell us,” said the Captain.

“I admit we shouldn’t try it just now,” replied the Doctor. “The more equipment we’re able to repair on the ship, the better, naturally. We should arm ourselves, too, though it doesn’t have to be with atomic throwers… Then some of us will stay by the ship, and some — three, let’s say — will approach the city. Two, approaching, will stop short and watch, while the third attempts to communicate with the inhabitants…”

“You have it all figured out. You even know who will be the one to enter the city,” the Engineer said grimly.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I’m not going to stand by while you try to commit suicide!” The Engineer jumped to his feet and towered over the Doctor, who did not even look up. They had never seen the Engineer so agitated. “If we all survived the crash and emerged from the grave that this ship became — if after taking the incalculable risk of exploring this planet as if it were a place for walking tours — it wasn’t so that now, with this damned, stupid drivel…” He became choked with anger. “I know that song. Mankind’s mission! Peace and good will to the stars! You’re a fool! Don’t tell me that no one tried to kill us today!

That we didn’t see a mass grave!”

The Doctor lifted his head. “Yes, they tried to kill us. And yes, it’s very likely that those dead were murdered.” Everyone could see the effort it took him to remain calm. “But we must go to the city.”

“After what we did?” asked the Captain.

The Doctor winced. “True,” he said. “The corpse we burned… yes. Do what you think is best.

You decide. I’ll go along.” And he got up and left, stepping over the horizontal door frame. The others waited, as though expecting him to change his mind and come back.

“You shouldn’t have lost your temper,” the Captain said quietly to the Engineer.

“You know perfectly well…” began the Engineer, but after looking him in the eyes he said, “I shouldn’t have.”

“The Doctor’s right about one thing,” said the Captain, adjusting his bandage, which had been slipping down. “What we found to the north of us doesn’t fit with what we saw to the east. We’re about as far from the city as from the factory — I’d say fifteen or twenty miles as the crow flies.”

“More,” said the Physicist.

“Maybe. Now, I would doubt that within that radius there are any such structures to the south or west. Because that would mean we had landed in the center of a kind of island “desert” some forty miles in diameter within an urban area. Which would be too much of a coincidence, too improbable. Do you agree?”

“Yes,” said the Engineer, looking at the floor. The Chemist, nodding, said, “We should have talked like this at the beginning.”

“I share the Doctor’s misgivings,” the Captain went on. “But his proposal is naïve, unsuitable, under the circumstances. The rules for contact with an alien civilization do not cover the situation in which we now find ourselves: of defenseless castaways living in a wreck buried in the ground. Obviously we must repair the damage to the ship, but at the same time there is an information race — between them and us. So far, we are ahead. We destroyed the being that attacked us. Why it attacked us, we don’t know.

Maybe we do resemble one of their enemies. We’ll have to ascertain that, too, if we can. Since the ship will not be operable in the near future, we must be ready for anything. The civilization around us is clearly developed. What I did, therefore — what we did — will only slightly delay their discovery of us. So our main effort now must be to arm ourselves.”

“May I say something?” said the Physicist.

“Go ahead.”

“I’d like to return to the Doctor’s point of view. Emotional though it is, there is an argument in its favor. This situation of a first contact is by no means neutral. When they find us, it will be because they have been looking for us. And it will be hard then to ‘reach an understanding.’ There will undoubtedly be an attack, and we’ll have to fight for our lives. But if, on the other hand, we go out to meet them, though the chances of reaching an understanding may not be great, they will at least exist. So, for purely tactical reasons, morality aside, it would be better for us to take the initiative.”

“All right, but what does that mean in practice?” asked the Engineer.

“In practice, nothing is altered for the time being. We must have weapons, and as quickly as possible. However, as soon as we have them, we should try to make contact — though not on the terrain that we’ve explored so far.”

“Why not?” asked the Captain.

“Because it’s extremely likely that we’ll be attacked before we reach the city. By the beings that drive the disks.”

“And how do you know we’ll find more peaceable beings elsewhere?”

“I don’t. But there’s nothing for us to the north or east. At least not now. I’m sure of that.”

“And what else?” said the Captain.

“We must activate Defender,” said the Chemist.

“How long will that take?” the Captain asked the Engineer.

“I can’t say. Without the robots we can’t even get to Defender. The thing weighs fourteen tons.

Ask the Cyberneticist.”

“It will take two days to check it. At least,” said the Cyberneticist. “But first I have to have working robots.”

“How long, to get the robots running?” asked the Captain.

“Let’s see… I’ll need a repair robot first, then a lifter, and they have to be checked, too, of course, which will take a couple of days, assuming there isn’t too much damage…”

“Can’t we take the heart out of Defender and armor it up here, beside the hull?” the Captain asked, looking at the Physicist.

The Physicist shook his head. “No. The pivot alone weighs more than a ton. Besides, the heart won’t fit in the tunnel.”

“The tunnel can be widened.”

“It won’t go through the hatch. And the freight hatch, as you know, is filled with water from the broken stern reservoir.”

“Did you check the water contamination?” asked the Engineer.

“Yes. Strontium, calcium, cerium, all the barium isotopes. The works. We can’t let it out — it would contaminate the soil within a radius of a thousand feet — and we can’t purify it until the antirads have working filters.”

“And I can’t clean the filters without a robot,” added the Engineer.

The Captain, looking from man to man as each spoke, observed, “We have a fair-sized list of can’ts. But it’s important to take stock. What about the atomic throwers?”

“They’re not throwers,” said the Engineer with a grimace of disgust. “Let’s not deceive ourselves.

The Doctor made so much noise about them, you’d think we were planning to start a nuclear war here.

Their range is less than two thousand feet. They’re hand sprinklers, nothing more, and, besides, they’re inconvenient. A man firing has to wear a shield that weighs two hundred pounds.”

“We have a lot of heavy things on board,” the Captain muttered, and nobody knew whether he meant that as a joke.

The Physicist said, “But if two throwers are placed three hundred feet apart and shoot in such a way that the beams intersect at the target, you get a supercritical concentration and can produce a chain reaction.”

“That’s fine on the firing range,” remarked the Chemist, “but I can’t see such precision under field conditions.”

“In other words, we really don’t have atomic throwers?” the Cyberneticist said, amazed and angry. “Then what is the sense of this whole discussion — this argument — about whether we should arm ourselves to the teeth or not? We’re not thinking!”

“That’s right. We haven’t done a great deal of thinking,” said the Captain calmly. “Not until now.

But we can’t allow ourselves that luxury any longer. With the throwers,” he went on, “there is another tactic: one fires half the charge, and the chain reaction takes place at the target. Except that the firing must be done from the best possible cover, and at maximum distance.”

“That means we have to go three feet underground before shooting?”

“Five, at least — and behind a six-foot embankment,” the Physicist put in.

“For stationary warfare that’s fine. For expeditions it’s useless,” the Chemist snorted.

“If the need arises,” said the Captain, “one man with a thrower can cover our retreat.”

“Without digging any embankments?”

“Without digging any embankments.”

There was silence.

“How much usable water do we have left?” asked the Cyberneticist.

“Less than three hundred gallons.”

“That’s not much.”

“True.”

“Now let’s have some concrete proposals,” said the Captain. A red spot appeared on his white bandage. “Our goal is to save ourselves and… the inhabitants of this planet.”

Suddenly all heads turned in the same direction. Through the wall came muffled music, a melody they all recognized.

“The player’s survived?” the Cyberneticist whispered in surprise. Nobody said anything.

“I’m waiting,” said the Captain. “No one? Then I’ll decide: the expeditions will continue. If we make contact in favorable circumstances, we’ll do everything in our power to communicate. Our water supply is too low. With no means of transport, we cannot increase it. Therefore, we must divide up. Half the crew will work in the ship, half will go exploring. Tomorrow morning we start repairing the jeep and assembling the throwers. If we’re successful, we make a motorized excursion in the evening. Does anyone have anything to say?”

“I do,” said the Engineer, his face in his hands, looking through his fingers at the floor. “The Doctor should remain in the ship.”

“Why?” asked the Cyberneticist. But everyone else understood.

“He won’t… do anything against us, if that’s what you’re thinking,” the Captain said, choosing his words carefully. The red spot on his bandage was a little larger.

“You know what he did at that… factory, at the wall,” said the Engineer. “He might have been killed.”

“On the other hand, he was the only one to help me… trample…” the Captain said, but did not continue.

“True,” the Engineer admitted. “That’s why I was reluctant to speak.”

“Anyone else?” The Captain straightened up, put his hand to his head, touched the bandage, and looked at his fingers. The music was still coming through the wall.

“Here or out there in the open — we don’t know where we’ll meet them first,” the Physicist said quietly.

“Do we draw lots?” asked the Chemist.

“No point. The ones who stay are those who have work to do on the ship,” said the Captain. He got up slowly, unsteadily, then lost his balance. The Engineer jumped up and caught him, and the Physicist held the Captain from the other side. The others spread cushions on the floor.

“No, I don’t need to lie down,” the Captain said, his eyes shut. “Thank you. It’s nothing. The stitches seem to have opened.”

“I’ll turn off the music,” said the Chemist, making for the door.

“No,” said the Captain, “let it play…”

They called the Doctor. He changed the dressing, put a clamp on the wound, and gave the Captain some medicine. Then everyone lay down. It was almost two when they finally turned off the lights and the ship fell silent.