THE FIVE HELLS OF ORION-4
691 Words
HATCHER HURRIED THROUGH the halls of the great buried structure in which he worked, toward the place where the supervising council of all probes would be in permanent session. They admitted him at once.
Hatcher identified himself and gave a quick, concise report:
“The subject recovered consciousness a short time ago and began to inspect his enclosure. His method of doing so was to put his own members in physical contact with the various objects in the enclosure. After observing him do this for a time we concluded he might be unable to see and so we illuminated his field of vision for him.
“This appeared to work well for a time. He seemed relatively undisturbed. However, he then reverted to physical-contact, manipulating certain appurtenances of an artificial skin we had provided for him.
“He then began to vibrate the atmosphere by means of resonating organs in his breathing passage.
“Simultaneously, the object he was holding, attached to the artificial skin, was discovered to be generating paranormal forces.”
The supervising council rocked with excitement. “You’re sure?” demanded one of the councilmen.
“Yes, sir. The staff is preparing a technical description of the forces now, but I can say that they are electromagnetic vibrations modulating a carrier wave of very high speed, and in turn modulated by the vibrations of the atmosphere caused by the subject’s own breathing.”
“Fantastic,” breathed the councillor, in a tone of dawning hope. “How about communicating with him, Hatcher? Any progress?”
“Well ... not much, sir. He suddenly panicked. We don’t know why; but we thought we’d better pull back and let him recover for a while.”
The council conferred among itself for a moment, Hatcher waiting. It was not really a waste of time for him; with the organs he had left in the probe-team room, he was in fairly close touch with what was going on—knew that McCray was once again fumbling among the objects in the dark, knew that the team-members had tried illuminating the room for him briefly and again produced the rising panic.
Still, Hatcher fretted. He wanted to get back.
“Stop fidgeting,” commanded the council leader abruptly. “Hatcher, you are to establish communication at once.”
“But, sir....” Hatcher swung closer, his thick skin quivering slightly; he would have gestured if he had brought members with him to gesture with. “We’ve done everything we dare. We’ve made the place homey for him—” actually, what he said was more like, we’ve warmed the biophysical nuances of his enclosure—“and tried to guess his needs; and we’re frightening him half to death. We can’t go faster. This creature is in no way similar to us, you know. He relies on paranormal forces—heat, light, kinetic energy—for his life. His chemistry is not ours, his processes of thought are not ours, his entire organism is closer to the inanimate rocks of a sea-bottom than to ourselves.”
“Understood, Hatcher. In your first report you stated these creatures were intelligent.”
“Yes, sir. But not in our way.”
“But in a way, and you must learn that way. I know.” One lobster-claw shaped member drifted close to the councillor’s body and raised itself in an admonitory gesture. “You want time. But we don’t have time, Hatcher. Yours is not the only probe team working. The Central Masses team has just turned in a most alarming report.”
“Have they secured a subject?” Hatcher demanded jealously.
The councillor paused. “Worse than that, Hatcher. I am afraid their subjects have secured one of them. One of them is missing.”
There was a moment’s silence. Frozen, Hatcher could only wait. The council room was like a tableau in a museum until the councillor spoke again, each council member poised over his locus-point, his members drifting about him.
Finally the councillor said, “I speak for all of us, I think. If the Old Ones have seized one of our probers our time margin is considerably narrowed. Indeed, we may not have any time at all. You must do everything you can to establish communication with your subject.”
“But the danger to the specimen—” Hatcher protested automatically.
“—is no greater,” said the councillor, “than the danger to every one of us if we do not find allies now.”
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- Writer
