Only years of experience made Hans shake his head. "We finish the survey, then if it still looks safe we go down." He glanced at a display showing current progress, and knew his next words would not be popular. "That means two more days in orbit."
"But—" "Two days!" "Why do—"
The response came at once from the other three. Hans cut them off. "I'm sorry. This isn't negotiable. Ben and Lara, I know you're impatient to have your turn and show what you can do; and Darya, I know you can't wait for a chance to explore the interior of Iceworld. I feel the same way myself. But as long as I'm in charge, it's going to be safety first."
His face wore a mixture of uncertainty and bewilderment. Darya could guess the reason for that changing expression. Safety first, when there was no reason to expect any form of danger? Safety first, when Hans was as relaxed about descending to Iceworld as he ever was about anything? Why was he doing this?
But Hans was not ready to hear questions. He ducked his head, and repeated, "Two more days to complete the survey of Iceworld. Then we'll see what else we've learned. And then we make a decision."
As the hours wore on Hans felt the cabin walls of the
Savior
crowding in on him. He had established an electromagnetic cancellation field for the whole ship, and also one for each of the suits. Now there was nothing more to do and no way to escape the others. The ship moved constantly over new areas of Iceworld, but the image on the displays did not change. The other three stared gloomily at the monitors, then turned to stare accusingly at Hans. Their faces said it all:
Why are we wasting time up here? Why don't we go down and get on with it?
They didn't seem to realize that Hans was as keen for action as they were. He was constantly checking the progress of the surface survey, without any idea what he might be looking for. Whatever it was, he didn't see it. Before the first sleep period arrived he lost patience—not with them, but with himself.
"All right. I know that none of you likes this. Let's try something different." He did not need to invite them to where he was sitting at the control console. They were out of their chairs and crowding in on him in seconds. He went on, "Ben, you are better with the display equipment than I am. Give me a hand to produce displays of what we have, then I'd like everyone's opinions."
The
Savior
was flying a polar orbit. As the planet rotated, on each pass the ship covered a different swath of the surface, with every strip overlapping the others at the poles. Hans and Ben, working together, converted the results they had to a 3-D graphic.
Hans said at last, "That's good enough. Thanks, Ben. As you can all see, we've covered only about one-fourth of the surface, so no one could say this is close to a complete survey. On the other hand, we've covered the polar region many times, and what we see so far there and elsewhere shows an absolutely regular and unchanging pattern. First, the obvious: Iceworld is a perfect sphere made from unknown materials, held at a temperature lower than anything has any right to be. Most places give no return signal, but dotted on the sphere in places about fifty kilometers apart from each other we have a grid of points of something else, places where the laser's return spectrum suggests the surface has a different composition. These areas look like they're made of Builder materials. Each one is a circular patch only a few hundred meters across, but they are all connected by narrower lines of the same material. The grid patches form a network of perfect equilateral triangles."
Hans gave the others a minute or two to digest the display, then went on, "There's an obvious question here. As I said, we haven't had a close look at almost three-quarters of the surface. If we did, would we simply find more of the same, or is there a chance that if we stop the survey now we'll miss something new and important?"
He didn't need or want their reply, and went on at once, "The honest answer is, we simply don't know. So here's what I propose. It's close to the time when we usually go to sleep. Let's do that. By the time we are up again and have had something to eat, the ship will have surveyed another fifteen percent of the surface. We'll look at the whole result, and if the pattern continues as we have seen it so far, we'll make the bet that the rest would show nothing new. We'll go down, to one of the spots that shows Builder material, and tackle the next problem: How do we penetrate below the surface to take a look at the interior?"
It was a compromise, between the two full days needed to complete the whole survey and everybody else's urge to descend at once. Hans knew it, and so did the others, but they didn't realize how strongly he wanted to agree with them.
It was a relief when Darya nodded, and after a few seconds Ben Blesh and Lara Quistner did the same.
They dispersed, to their separate and cramped bunks. Would they sleep? Or would they, from the expression on Lara Quistner's face, lie awake in excited expectation?
Hans couldn't speak for them. He only knew his own plans.
When you have something to do, do it. When you have nothing to do, sleep
. That was just as true if the next morning would bring an arrival at the safe and wealthy world of Miranda, or a descent to the surface of an unknown world colder than anything in the rest of the universe.
Hans removed his shoes and lay down in his bunk. He turned off the light. Within thirty seconds he was at the edge of sleep.
The edge was as close as he got. Hans was skin and bones, so a bunk wide enough for any normal person was ample for him. But that didn't apply when someone was squeezing in next to you, pushing you up against a cold and unyielding wall.
The Phemus Circle reaction was to assume you were being attacked and hit back at once. Fortunately, Hans recognized the perfume even before his eyes were open.
"Shh! Don't cry out." A soft body pushed in closer.
"I wasn't about to." He answered Darya's whisper with his own. "What's happening? I hoped that at some point we would get friendly, but I didn't expect it would be tonight."
"It won't. We need to talk. Move in a bit—I'm falling off the edge."
"There's no place to move
to
. Do you want the light turned on?"
"No!"
"Why didn't you speak to me earlier, when we had space to breathe?"
"It had to be done in private, away from the other two." Darya tried to wriggle into a space that did not exist. The warmth of her body against his was pleasant and it aroused more than memories.
He said hurriedly, "Has Ben been pushing you, trying to persuade you that it's time for him to take over?"
"No. But while you and he were finishing your food, Lara asked for a few minutes alone with me. There's no such thing as privacy on the
Savior
except in the bunks and the bathroom, and you and Ben would both have noticed if Lara and I went there together. The only time we had was when Ben helped you to generate the display of results. But that was enough. Her message came through loud and clear."
"Let me guess. She's nervous about going down to Iceworld."
"Hans, you have it about as wrong as you could get. But I would have been wrong, too, if she hadn't told me her feelings. She says that before our trip to the dead planet she was nervous and unsure of herself, so she accepted that Ben was her senior in the survival team and she let him take the lead in everything. But she feels that she performed well when we were down on the surface."
"She's right. Better than well, perfectly. Neither she nor Ben put a foot wrong. Old Arabella would be proud of them."
"And Lara knows it, at least for herself. But she claims to have seen flaws in the speed and accuracy of Ben's actions. When I told her I hadn't noticed any such thing, she said I wouldn't since I didn't have special training.
She
could tell the difference. And because of that she was asking me for my help."
"Why didn't she come to me? I'm the one in charge." Hans asked from curiosity rather than hurt ego.
"My question, too. She said that you are only in charge for the moment. As soon as we are down on the surface of Iceworld, Ben will take over."
"She's right. Graves insisted on it. A jackass decision, but we have to live with it."
"If Lara is right, we're as likely to die with it. She says that we have never seen Ben when he's on top. He won't take no for an answer from me, or from you. She has—seen him on top, I mean."
"I can imagine it." Hans had a sudden memory of Darya on top, which had not happened in more than two years and was a thought that made no sense at all when a man was trying to focus on more serious matters. He added, "Ben's a take-charge sort of individual. That's not a bad thing—provided the person knows what he's doing."
"You think Ben doesn't?"
"I think Ben can't possibly, but that's no reflection on him. Some things you gain by experience and in no other way."
"Hans, you have all the experience we need. I'd rather Ben didn't try to get
his
experience at our expense."
They were face to face to hear more easily the other's whispers. Darya's breath was warm, and on the word "expense" her lips brushed against his face. To stay on the narrow bunk her whole body had to be in contact with his. He was aware of her all the way from his head to his toes. Despite the total darkness she had to be equally aware of his body's ill-timed reaction.
Hans told himself to think pure thoughts. Think depressing, think about the frozen and dead world that they had come from, think about what might face them tomorrow. Think about anything, except Darya pressing close to him. He said, "We have a job to do. We have to teach Ben without his ever knowing that he's being taught. It won't be easy, because we have no experience ourselves of anything like Iceworld. That isn't my biggest worry, though."
"So what is? I didn't get the feeling from listening to you that you were expecting danger on Iceworld."
"Then that's a failing on my part. The leader of a party should
always
expect danger. I hope Ben Blesh's survival training included that detail. Don't worry, I won't be relaxing too far. But Ben's actions are not what most concern me. My big worry is Lara."
"
Lara
? She's not the bossy one. And you just told me that she was doing a perfect job."
"She was, and she is. But from what you told me, as soon as we arrive on Iceworld she will feel that she has to prove she's as good as Ben Blesh—and maybe better. It's when people want to prove themselves that they do silly things and get into trouble. My job will be to spot any show-off action ahead of time. If I don't, the hardest task will be to prevent Lara from starting something."
"I understand." Darya eased away from him. "Hans, my hardest task right now is to prevent
you
from starting something. You mustn't feel rejected, but this isn't the best time and place."
"Will there ever be a better one? It's been more than two years."
"I'm aware of that. Maybe more aware of it than you are."
Darya did not suggest, as he knew she had every right to, that their two-year separation was the result of Hans's own efforts to overturn the repressive government of the Phemus Circle. She had not pointed out that any visit by her to him would have been blocked by that same government. She had never criticized him for pursuing a lost cause. For herself, she had not left Sentinel Gate for as much as a single day, and if at any time he had made the effort to come and see her, she would have been ready and waiting.
Any time but now. The bunk creaked as she rolled sideways off it. Hans felt a hand exploring his face in the darkness, tasted a soft kiss on the lips, and heard a whispered, "There will be a better time. Goodnight."
Hans was alone again. He drew in a deep breath and told his body to relax. He repeated his own mantra: When you have something to do, do it. When you have nothing to do, sleep. When you have something to do, do it. When you have nothing to do, sleep.
Sometimes, repeated mantras are not enough. Sometimes, self-discipline fails. Hans remained awake. He stared into the darkness and imagined possible dangers on the surface of Iceworld. Half an hour later, his mind remained blank and he was still as far from sleep as ever.
After a thousand planetfalls one more should have little to offer, even if it happened to be in a different arm of the galaxy.
Hans puzzled over his own reactions. He had landed on objects ranging in size from minor planetoids to monster worlds twice the diameter of Iceworld. So why the feeling that this was a new experience?
He looked ahead to the broad curve of the planet, felt the pulse of the
Savior
's drive, listened for the whistle of air on the ship's hull, and knew the answer. Anything the size of Iceworld ought to be a massive object, well able to hold on to an atmosphere. This place wasn't massive, and the surface was utterly airless. The ship was descending through hard vacuum, riding a drive operating at only a fraction of full power.
The more Hans thought about Darya's plan, the less he was persuaded that it could work as easily as she suggested. Accept that the world a few kilometers below the ship was hollow. Assume that somehow they would be able to penetrate the featureless exterior and reach the interior. But now consider that interior. A world with a diameter of seventy-eight thousand kilometers had a volume of two hundred and fifty
trillion
cubic kilometers. The old "needle in a haystack" image didn't begin to describe it. You could wander a space that size for the rest of your life, and never come close to what you were looking for—even if you knew what you were looking for.
Which, as even Darya readily admitted to him in private if not in public, she did not. She was hoping to find sentient Builder artifacts similar to those they had met inside worlds of the Orion Arm. They had been able to communicate with them, even if the information provided was usually cryptic enough to be more baffling than useful.