Planet of Adventure Omnibus (45 page)

The sun sank
toward the ocean. The men fell silent, studying the ships which, hardly more
than a quarter-mile distant, seemed tantalizingly accessible. Still the
question lingered: Which of the three ships in the “Load Zone” offered the
maximum opportunity for a successful departure? The consensus favored one of
the cargo ships, only Jag Jaganig preferring the passenger ship.

Reith’s
nerves began to crawl. The next few hours would shape his future, and far too
many variables lay beyond his control. Strange that the ships should be guarded
so lightly! On the other hand who was apt to attempt the theft of a spaceship?
Probably not in the last thousand years had such an act occurred, if ever.

Dusk fell
over the landscape; the group began to descend the mountainside. Floodlights
illuminated the ground beside the warehouses, the repair shop, the depot in
back of the loading zone. The remainder of the field remained in greater or
less darkness, the ships casting long shadows away from the lights.

The men
scrambled the last few feet down to the base of the hill, crossed a path of
dank marshland, and came to the edge of the field, and here they waited five
minutes, watching and listening. The warehouses showed no activity; in the
shops a few men still worked.

Reith, Zarfo
and Thadzei went forth to reconnoiter. Crouching they ran to the abandoned
hulk, where they stood in the shadows.

From the
machine shop came the whine of machinery; from the depot a voice called
something unintelligible. The three waited ten minutes. In the town at the back
of the spacefield long skeins of light had come into being; across the harbor
the Wankh towers showed a few glimmers of yellow.

The machine
shop became quiet; the workers appeared to be leaving. Reith, Zarfo and Thadzei
moved across the field keeping to the long shadows. They reached the first of
the small cargo ships, where again they halted to look and listen: there were
no sounds, no alarms. Zarfo and Thadzei went to the entry hatch, heaved it open
and entered, while Reith with beating heart stood guard outside.

Ten
interminable minutes passed. From within came furtive sounds and once or twice
a glimmer of light, which aroused in Reith an intense nervousness.

Finally the
two Lokhars returned. “No good,” grunted Zarfo. “No air, no energy. Let’s try
the other.”

They stole
quickly across the bands of light and shadow to the second cargo ship; as
before Zarfo and Thadzei entered while Reith stood at the port. The Lokhars
returned almost immediately. “Under repair,” Zarfo reported glumly. “This is where
the component cases come from.”

They turned
to look at the passenger vessel. “It’s not a standard design,” Zarfo grumbled. “Still,
the instruments and layout may be familiar to us.”

“Let’s go
aboard and look,” said Reith. But now a light flared across the field. Reith’s
first thought was that they had been discovered. But the light played toward
the passenger vessel. From the direction of the gate came a low easy-moving
shape. The vehicle stopped beside the passenger vessel; a number of dark
figures alighted-how many could not be ascertained in the glare. With a
curiously abrupt and heavy motion, the figures entered the ship.

“Wankh,”
muttered Zarfo. “They’re going aboard.”

“It would
mean that the ship is ready for departure,” said Reith. “A chance we can’t
afford to miss!”

Zarfo
demurred. “It’s one thing to steal an empty ship, another coping with a half
dozen Wankh, and Wankhmen as well.”

“How do you
know Wankhmen are aboard?”

“Because of
the lights. Wankh project pulses of radiation and observe the reflections.”

Behind them
came a faint sound. Reith whirled to find Traz. “We became worried; you were
gone so long.”

“Go back;
bring everyone here. If we have opportunity, we’ll board the passenger ship. It’s
the only one available.”

Traz vanished
into the darkness. Five minutes later the entire group stood in the shadow of
the cargo ship.

Half an hour
went by. In the passenger ship shapes moved across the lights, performing
activities beyond the comprehension of the nervous men. In husky whispers they
debated possible courses of action. Should they try to storm the ship now?
Almost certainly departure was in the offing. Such action was obviously
reckless. The group decided to pursue a conservative course and return into the
mountains to await a more propitious occasion. As they started back, a number
of Wankh issued from the vessel and lurched to the vehicle, which almost
immediately left the field. Within the ship lights still glowed. No further
activity was evident.

“I’m going to
give it a look,” said Reith. He ran across the field, followed by the others.
They mounted the ramp, passed through an embarkation port into the ship’s main
saloon, which was unoccupied. “Everybody to his station,” said Reith. “Let’s
take it up!”

“If we can,”
grumbled Zorofim.

Traz cried
out a warning: turning, Reith saw that a single Wankh had entered the saloon,
watching in nonplussed disapproval. It was a black creature somewhat larger
than a man, with a heavy torso, a squat head from which two black lenses
flickered at half-second intervals. The legs were short; the feet were played
webs; it carried no weapons or implements; in fact wore no garment or harness
of any sort. From a sound organ at the base of the skull came four
reverberating chimes, which, considering the circumstances, seemed measured and
unexcited. Reith stepped forward, pointed to a settee, to indicate that it
should sit down. The Wankh stood motionless, looking after the Lokhars who had
gone their various ways, checking engines, energy, supplies, oxygen. The Wankh
at last seemed to understand the events which were taking place. It took a step
toward the exit port, but Reith barred the way and once again pointed to the
settee. The Wankh loomed in front of him, the glassy eyes flickering. Once
again the chimes sounded, more peremptory than before.

Zarfo
returned to the saloon. “The ship is in order. But it’s an unfamiliar model, as
I feared.”

“Can we take
it up?”

“We’ll have
to make sure we know what we are doing. It may be minutes or hours.”

“Then we can’t
let the Wankh go.”

“Awkward,”
said Zarfo.

The Wankh
thrust forward; Reith pushed it back and displayed his handgun. The Wankh
uttered a loud chime. Zarfo made a chirping sound. The Wankh drew back.

Reith asked: “What
did you say?”

“I just gave
the pidgin sound for ‘danger.’ It seems to understand well enough.”

“I wish it
would sit down; it makes me nervous standing there.”

“Wankh almost
never sit,” said Zarfo and went to seal the entrance port.

Time passed.
From various locations about the ship came calls and exclamations from the
Lokhars. At Reith’s direction, Traz stood in the observation dome, watching
over the field. The Wankh stood stolidly, apparently at a loss for action.

The ship
shuddered; the lights flickered, went dim, came on bright once more. Zarfo
looked into the saloon. “We’ve got the engines pumping. Now if Thadzei can
figure out the control configurations-”

Traz called
down: “The car is coming back. The floodlight has just gone on, to light the
field.”

Thadzei ran
through the saloon, jumped up to the control console. He peered this way and
that, while Zarfo stood by his side urging him to haste. Reith set Anacho to
guarding the Wankh, Joined Traz in the observation dome. The car was slowing to
a stop beside the ship.

Zarfo pointed
here and there across the control panel; Thadzei nodded doubtfully, thrust at a
set of pressure pads. The ship shuddered and heaved; Reith felt acceleration
underfoot. He was departing Tschai! Thadzei made adjustments; the ship pitched.
Reith reached for a stanchion; the Wankh stumbled and fell upon the settee,
where it remained. From elsewhere about the ship came full-throated Lokhar
curses.

Reith made
his way to the bridge, to stand beside Thadzei, who desperately worked the
controls, testing first one pad, then another. Reith asked: “Is there an
automatic pilot?”

“Bound to be,
somewhere. I can’t locate the engagement. These are by no means standard
controls.”

“Do you know
what you are doing?”

“No.”

Reith looked
down at the dark face of Tschai. “So long as we are going up and not down, we’re
in good shape.”

“If I had an
hour, a single hour,” moaned Thadzei, “I could trace out the circuits.”

Jag Jaganig
came into the saloon to make a querulous protest. Thadzei called back: “I’m
doing the best I can!”

“It’s not
good enough! We’ll crash!”

“Not yet,”
said Thadzei grimly. “I see a lever I haven’t tried.” He pulled the lever; the
ship skidded alarmingly and thrust off at great speed to the east. Once more
the Lokhars gave a series of anguished cries. Thadzei moved the lever back to
its original position. The ship came to a trembling stasis. Thadzei gave a
great tremulous sigh, peering back and forth across the panel. “Like none I
have ever seen!”

Reith looked
out the port but saw nothing but darkness. Zarfo spoke in a calm voice: “Our altitude
is not quite a thousand feet ... Now it is nine hundred...”

Thadzei
desperately worked the controls. Once again the ship lurched and fled eastward.
“Up, up!” screamed Zarfo. “We’re diving into the ground!”

Thadzei
brought the ship back to a halt. “Well then, this toggle will surely activate
the repulsors.” He gave it a twitch. From aft came a sinister crackle, a
muffled explosion. The Lokhars yelled mournfully. Zarfo read the altimeter. “Five
hundred ... Four hundred ... Three ... Two ... One...”

Contact: a
splash, a bobbing and pitching, then silence. The ship was afloat, apparently
undamaged, in an unknown body of water. The Parapan? The Schanizade? Reith
threw up his hands in fatalistic despair. Back once more in Tschai.

Reith jumped
down to the saloon. The Wankh stood like a statue. Whatever its emotions, none
were evident.

Reith went
aft to the engine room, where Jag Jaganig and Belje looked disconsolately at a
smoldering panel. “An overload,” said Belje. “Circuits and nodes are certainly
melted.”

“Can we make
repairs?”

Belje made a
glum sound. “If tools and parts are aboard.”

“If time is
given to us,” said Jag Jaganig.

Reith
returned to the saloon. He threw himself down upon a settee and stared bleakly
at the Wankh. The plan had succeeded ... almost. He leaned back, sodden with
fatigue. The others must be feeling the same. No useful purpose could be served
by going longer without rest. He got to his feet, called the group together.
Two-man watches were set; the others slumped upon settees to sleep as best they
could.

The night
passed. Az raced across the sky, followed by Braz. Dawn revealed a placid
expanse which Zarfo identified as Lake Falas. “And never has it served a more
useful purpose!”

Reith went
out on the top surface of the hull, and searched the horizons through his
scanscope. Hazy water stretched to south, east and west. To the north was a low
shore toward which the ship was drifting, propelled by a gentle breeze from the
south. Reith went back into the ship. The Lokhars had detached a panel and were
unenthusiastically discussing the damage. Their attitudes gave Reith all the
information he needed.

In the saloon
he found Anacho and Traz gnawing on spheres of black paste encased in a hard
white rind which they had taken from a locker. Reith offered one of the spheres
to the Wankh, who paid no heed. Reith ate the sphere himself, finding it
similar to cheese. Zarfo presently joined him and verified what Reith already
had guessed. “Repairs are not feasible. A whole bank of crystals is destroyed.
There are no spares aboard.”

Reith gave a
gloomy nod. “As I expected.”

“What next?”
demanded Zarfo.

“As soon as
the wind blows us ashore we disembark and return to Ao Hidis for another try.”

Zargo
grunted. “What of the Wankh?”

“We’ll have
to let him go his own way. I certainly don’t plan to murder him.”

“A mistake,”
sniffed Anacho. “Best kill the repulsive beast.”

“For your
information,” said Zarfo, “the main Wankh citadel Ao Khaha is situated on Lake
Falas. It will not be far distant.”

Reith went
back out on the foredeck. The first tussocks of the shore were only half a mile
distant; beyond lay quagmire. To ground at the edge of such a morass would be
highly inconvenient, and Reith was glad to see that the wind, shifting to the
east, seemed to be moving the ship slowly to the west, perhaps aided by a
sluggish current. Turning the scanscope along the shore Reith was able to
distinguish a set of irregular juts and promontories far to the west.

From within
came the sound of expostulation, followed by the thud of heavy footsteps. Out
on the foredeck came the Wankh, followed by Anacho and Traz. The Wankh fixed
Reith for half a second with its flicking vision, long enough to register an
image, then turned by slow degrees to look around the horizon. Before Reith could
prevent it, even were he able to do so, the Wankh stepped forward, ran with its
peculiar lurching gait down the side of the ship and plunged into the water.
Reith caught a glimpse of wet black hide, then the creature was gone into the
depths.