Gold Medal Software 3/Gold Medal Software - Volume 3 (Gold Medal) (1994).iso/bbsutils/sun9403.arj/FIC3

Text File | 1994-02-21 | 45KB | 713 lines

Lifeboat
Copyright (c) 1993, Robert McKay
All rights reserved



                                Lifeboat
                            by Robert McKay



     The shuttle lifted off from the surface in the midst of a
blizzard.  The snow whirled about the black craft, nearly hiding it
from view as the gusts whipped the heavy stuff into frozen fists.  To
depart in such weather was not unusual; on Tushà blizzards happened as
often as not in winter, and the Karç had long ago learned to construct
craft and train pilots to handle the stress.  Besides, battling a
blizzard was a joy to a race that delighted in combat - against the
weather, if nothing else.
     As the shuttle rose, the two occupants eyed each other.  One, a
native of Tushà, was bundled in what was for a Karç heavy clothing -
over his knee-length vest he had wrapped a heavy cloak that was just
now beginning to lose its slowly melting shroud of snow.  Out of the
loosened cloak a head reared, ears twitching as they searched for the
smallest sound.  The eyebrows bristled black over deep-set eyes, the
mouth and nose were blended into a near-muzzle, and the whole was
clothed in a reddish hair that was very close to being fur.  The cloak
only slightly covered the broad shoulders, and the arms which hung
loosely across the native's knees were only a little less hairy than
his head, with strong, big hands at the ends.  The legs were much the
same, with the merest tips of claws showing as they gripped the wet and
slippery floor.  The body, revealed inside the cloak and vest, was
huge, also covered with a mat of yet thinner hair, and relaxed in a way
the implied immense physical strength ready to be unleashed.
     The other occupant was quite a contrast.  This was a human, his
head covered with a crop of brown, wavy hair that touched ears and
collar.  The hair on his hands was only about as thick as on the palms
of his Karç companion, and he was wrapped in pants, boots, shirt, and
parka.  A pair of gloves and a woolen ski cap rested beside him.  While
not small for a human, his six feet and 180 pounds were not impressive
as he sat in a chair made for a race much larger, and examined the
specimen of that race with which he happened to share the shuttle.
     The passengers were headed for a Karç vessel outbound to the Outer
Orbit Station jointly owned and operated by the governments of the
human Unified System and the native Tushà and the Karç Worlds.  This
station, built at immense expense by the two governments, had been
designed to facilitate contact between them.  While the third treaty
between the System and the Karç provided for lenient customs and
immigration policies, it was easier to funnel the traffic through one
point than through the many that otherwise would have sprung up all
through the Karç system.  And since most of the sentient traffic was,
thus far at least, from the System to Tushà, it made sense to establish
the entry port in the Karç solar system.
     The human was the first to break the silence.  "Do you speak
System?" he asked, rather nervously.
     "I speak," was the reply, the guttural Karç accent making his
voice raspy and deep.
     "That's good," answered the human with a nervous laugh.  "I want
to practice my Karçlà, but I need to do it with someone who can correct
me in my own language."
     "I agree," rumbled the native, throwing his cloak back off his
shoulders.  "You vronounce the language name wrong."  He seemed not to
notice that his language's lack of a P rendered his own System
pronunciation less than correct.  "You say Karklà.  Not so.  You should
say, Karçlà," and on the ç he rasped down in his throat as if he were
hawking to spit, prolonging the sound until the human thought the
alien's throat would burst.
     "I see," was the weak reply.  "I never can get that sound right.
That and your other harsh consonant--"
     "you mean '," and at the ' the Karç produced a shorter rasp.
     "Yes, that one.  I can never get them right.  System isn't a harsh
language, and our throats can't take it."
     The Karç nodded.  As with all humans who had read of the
_Jordan_'s voyage into this system, the visitor to the system wondered
if this gesture had been copied from the battleship's crew, or had
existed in the native culture before human contact.
     Silence fell for a moment.  Then the Karç roused himself and
displayed his race's remarkable adaptability.  The Karç were by nature
and long experience inclined to treat any stranger as an enemy, yet
this native conformed to human customs.
     "I not introduce myself yet.  Kanjar Digush So*ek."
     "I'm Rindell Wood," replied the human.  "Might I ask the meaning
of your warrior name?"
     "'Claw.'  But Digush old.  Today only warrior name.  Karçlà has
another word for claw in talking."
     Wood knew that some archaic words had retained their meaning, yet
were only used for "warrior names."  The warrior name was the middle
name taken by a Karç when he had proved himself in combat.  Few adults
were without a warrior name in a culture where the legal age was 15,
and the only acceptable motive for suicide among the Karç was failure
to reach adulthood without being able to take such a name.
     The speaker set in the ceiling burst forth in a spate of harsh
Karçlà.  Immediately afterward a human voice came over the speaker;
since the pilot was Karç, Wood reasoned that the message must be
recorded in both languages to accommodate the fairly heavy flow of
humans to and from Tushà.  Obeying the directions given, Wood and
Digush So*ek secured their belts.  A few moments later, they felt power
go off as the shuttle went into coast mode, and their bodies lightened
in their seats.  Both Karç and humans had developed artificial gravity,
but few Karç ships kept it on full time.  Even in a Karç war ship, it
had been learned, only the bridge and other areas with critical
response times maintained a constant normal gravity.
     Looking out the side window by his seat, Wood scanned for the Karç
ship.  He didn't really expect to see it; like System Fleet vessels,
Karç ships of all kinds were painted a flat black that made visual
detection difficult.  A holdover from centuries of nearly-constant war,
this enabled even merchant ships, which were lightly armed by Karç
standards, to stand a better chance of surviving an interplanetary run.
     Wood was roused from his contemplation of the stars by his fellow
traveler's grunt.  "Why you on Tushà?"
     "I'm on a fact-finding tour for my company.  We manufacture
refrigerated food storage units - reefers, they're called in the System
- and my company wants to know if there is a market for our product on
your world.  We don't want to put your companies out of business--"
such an attempt could be dangerous, since the Karç tended to settle
insults with knife and fang and claw "--but if we can establish
ourselves as a reliable source of a good product at a reasonable price,
we'll be happy to set up shop here."
     And now the massive Karç surprised the human.  "Today no need
'reefer,' you think?"
     Looking back toward the planet, or where it would have been had
not the shuttle's orientation blocked the view, Wood grinned.  "No, not
with that blizzard going.  Days like this, you put the meat in the
reefer to warm it up."  He went through the standard joke mechanically;
inside, his mind was in shock over the sudden eruption of the Karç
sense of humor.  Rumor had it back in the System that Ras Tanura, who
had himself been known for a quirky turn of mind, had been equally
surprised at how the Karç could suddenly come up with a joke from
nowhere, seemingly at odds with their fierce culture and menacing
exterior.
     The shuttle maneuvered, was still, then maneuvered again.  The
speaker blared again, this time warning in the two languages that
passengers needed to be secured for docking.  In spite of this warning,
the actual docking was only a slight jolt, although in the zero-gee
environment it might have sent Wood and Digush So*ek floating through
the cabin.  The latches clanged home, another warning came - this time
alerting passengers to the fact that the ship had its artificial
gravity engaged, and the access hatch in the nose opened.  The control
cabin was set in a blister on top of the hull, to facilitate passenger
egress, which was accomplished by moving through the cabin, out through
the nose of the shuttle, and into the ship.
     A sign painted on the bulkhead just inside the Karç ship's airlock
in System and Karçlà informed boarding passengers that they were now on
the Tushà Trading Company's cargo ship #473.  The Karç never named
their ships.  During their interminable wars they'd learned that
regarding objects as "he" or "she" and giving them names tended to make
them too important; while a war ship was certainly of value in space
combat, it was detrimental to the effort if the crew were so
emotionally attached to the vessel that they refused to abandon it when
the situation couldn't be redeemed.  While there were few chances to
leave a ship in space - destruction was usually simultaneous with the
first serious breach of the shields - when the time came the Karç
didn't want crews remaining behind because they couldn't persuade their
emotions.  Dead warriors don't fight.
     This was a small ship, used for passengers and miscellaneous
cargo.  It was typical of the age-old "tramp" vessel, traveling from
port to port as the cargo dictated, without a fixed route or schedule.
A single voyage might see it delivering 20 different kinds of cargo at
as many different ports, while the larger ships, which were too
valuable to bother with three cases of paper, handled the bulk cargos
of the system.  Its hull was dented, scratched, and worn from long
service, and in the brief interval between docking and passing through
the airlock Wood thought he'd seen repaired battle damage.  The
corridors were, however, brightly lit in Karç fashion, and while the
whole interior was very plainly a used one, it was also clean to the
point of being antiseptic.  The perpetual animal odor of the Karç
filtered faintly through the air ducts, and assorted bangs, clangs,
thumps, and hummings worked their way through the ship's fabric as
cargo was loaded and stowed, gear was secured, and systems were tested.
     Wood found his cabin with relative ease, since directions had been
posted in System as well as Karçlà.  In the process he became separated
from his erstwhile traveling companion, not to his entire distress.
He'd spent the past three months on Tushà, and by now wasn't
immediately frightened by the sight of a Karç, but at the same time
they made him uneasy.  They seemed entirely too ready to pull a knife
or extend their claws and do physical damage, and though he hadn't seen
a single Karç in a bad temper during his visit, he also knew that the
natives of Tushà and the Karç Worlds put on their best behavior around
humans, simply to avoid killing their allies.  Wood ruefully reflected
that if such an attitude had prevailed during the many Karç wars, there
would have been fewer wars.
                                 ^ ^ ^
     Rindell Wood awoke with a loud blaring in his ears.  The sound
must be an alarm - nothing else could possibly justify the atrocious
noise that assaulted him.  But what alarm?
     Wood swung his feet out of the bed and stumbled over to the status
readout on the wall.  Unfortunately, this device did not provide System
equivalents for the Karç script that flashed on its screen.  Wood was
beginning to think he'd been forgotten, and to wonder what he ought to
do, when the alarm broke off and a voice began shouting in Karçlà.  He
waited while the phrase was repeated three times: "_Drutà*
har'trultaçzo!_"  Wood puzzled over the meaning of this harsh sentence,
until a heavily accented Karç voice bellowed the System translation -
"Abandon ship!"
     The human was galvanized into action.  He had unpacked little, and
it was the work of a mere moment to throw on some clothing, toss the
few articles he'd taken out back into the suitcase, and heaving the
case off the bed dash through the door.  Glancing hurriedly both ways,
he saw figures moving in a cross corridor to his right.  He ran that
way, the small suitcase banging against his leg.  He skidded into the
traffic, nearly running into a massive, one-eyed Karç.
     The human gasped out one System word.  "Lifeboats!"
     The Karç seemed to consider a moment; while most members of his
race spoke System more or less well, few actually thought in the
language, and had to laboriously translate back and forth in
conversation with humans.  The blunt finger pointed to Wood's left.
"Go there.  One, two hallway, go right.  End of hallway."  The native,
having given these remarkably clear directions, moved on his way, in
the opposite direction from where he had steered Wood.
     The human, wasting no time, followed the directions he'd been
given.  At the end of the final corridor, he came up against a Karç
with a very recent burn across his chest.  The ubiquitous Karç vest was
lying nearby on the floor; it was burned nearly in two, and Wood
surmised that this member of the crew had been injured in whatever
calamity had befallen the ship, and had been stationed here to perform
a duty that he could do, and needed to be done.  Wood again spoke his
word, "Lifeboats."
     The Karç nodded and pointed, the movement seeming to produce only
slight pain.  Wood knew, however, that the small wince he had observed
would have been a cry of agony in a human; the skin was blistered and
cracked, and already clear fluid was seeping out.  This Karç would
quite likely die unless medical attention were soon made available, and
no matter what was done he would be horribly scarred for the rest of
his life.
     As he considered these facts, Wood followed the pointing finger
thorough an airlock.  On the far side, he found himself in a small
craft, with two passenger seats side by side behind what was obviously
a pilot's seat.  In front of the seat a console came to life even as
Wood entered the craft, with two beeps and various flickerings to
herald the introduction of power to the circuits.
     A native was already in the pilot's seat, observing readouts and
flicking switches as he noticed systems coming on line.  As Wood threw
his suitcase in a compartment and fell into a seat, the native turned.
It was Kanjar Digush So*ek.  Nodding to the breathless human, he turned
to the controls again.  He reached to push a button, and the lifeboat
lurched crazily.  For a moment the floor seemed almost to be a wall,
and Wood felt as though he were falling to his left, towards the port
bulkhead.  Then the perspective righted, but half the displays on the
control panel were dark again.  A rumble rattled Wood's teeth, and the
Karç growled - making the human think of an angry tiger.  He muttered
something in Karçlà that didn't sound pleasant, and smashed his fist
down on a bright red panel.  The plastic shattered, revealing a broad
flat button of the same vivid red.  Again the fist smashed down, and
the lifeboat jerked forward, the gravity again taking a beating.  A
hatch at the end of what was clearly a launching bay blew off - Wood
noted with concern that it didn't open - and the lifeboat sped out into
the vacuum on the breast of an enormous exhalation of frozen
atmosphere.
     Wood rose from his seat as the motion steadied.  He noticed for
the first time that the hatch through which he'd come was closed and
sealed; apparently it had done so when Digush So*ek had hit the
emergency launch button.  Wood was just opening his mouth when a great
flare of white light burst upon the small vessel.  Although the
lifeboat possessed windows only in its bow, and although those windows
were facing away from the explosion, the brilliant glare still made him
blink several times to clear his vision again.
     The human moved closer to the half-dead control panel.  "What was
that?" he asked.
     "Anti-matter explosion," growled the Karç.
     "I guess we're lucky we got away when we did," returned Wood,
literally loosening with relief.
     "Not really.  Controls dead.  Can't maneuver lifeboat.  And
present course far away from planets or trade routes."
                                 ^ ^ ^
     Rindell Wood was totally unprepared for the situation he now
faced.  In all his life he'd never had to deal with ships blowing up
very nearly around him, or the necessity of survival in a lifeboat so
damaged by the death spasms of its mother ship that it was
unmaneuverable and heading away from where it needed to be.
Nevertheless he maintained at least the facade of calm.
     "What happened to the ship?" he asked, after sitting rather
abruptly upon hearing the unwelcome news of his predicament.
     "Don't know for sure.  I just passenger.  But something made
matter and antimatter bunkers lose integrity.  After that - no hope for
ship."  The Karç was still running through a checklist - at least it
appeared to be such - trying out one system after another, ascertaining
just what did and did not function aboard the lifeboat.  He did not
slacken his activity for Wood's questions.
     "So what do we do now?" continued the human, a little fright
creeping into his voice now.
     "We do everything we can," growled the Karç.  Under his breath he
muttered, "_Muvat_," which Wood recognized as the native word for
"idiot."
     Stung by the insult to his intelligence, and provoked beyond his
normal respect for Karç power and ferocity, Wood rose and shrieked at
Digush So*ek.  "What gives you the right to call me an idiot?"
     Now the tigerish Karç stopped his work, half turning in his seat.
Even seated, his head was on a level with Wood's; not only were Karç
taller than humans, but their seats were higher to accommodate their
great size.  "I call you truth, _vurmàstha_."  This was merely the
generic word for alien, which had gained a specific use in referring to
humans.  "Anyone with brain understand we have to do everything we
can."
     The shaking human came to a screeching mental halt.  It was true
that all efforts toward attracting rescue or, if possible, turning
toward help, had to be made.  And it was also true that antagonizing
this big native could result in fewer to be rescued when and if the
time came.
     Sitting back down, Wood collected his thoughts, which were
becoming increasingly chaotic as the shock of the ship's sudden
destruction wore off and the impact became correspondingly more vivid.
He spoke again, shakily this time.  "You'll have to forgive me, Digush
So*ek.  We humans often react irrationally in the first moments of
reaction after intense excitement.  And I've never gone through
anything like this before."
     The Karç grunted, once again flipping switches and pushing
buttons.  Wood watched in fascination as the massive hands punched and
flicked with surprising precision.  He noted that on occasion, to make
it easier to hit the right switch or button with a wide, blunt finger,
a claw would emerge partway and the needle-point would make the actual
contact.  Looking at a test panel on the bulkhead to his left, Wood saw
the pinprick marks left by other claws used in just such a fashion.
     Finally Digush So*ek cleared his screen, the lines of Karç script,
which reminded Wood of native American petroglyphs in some ways,
disappearing and the screen going to a faintly glowing orange.  The
Karç swiveled his seat around, staring at the human.
     Wood cleared his throat.  "What's our situation?"
     "Unh."  Digush So*ek sat a moment longer, his eyes withdrawn,
apparently considering.  "Main power good.  Life support good.  Food
supply good.  Maneuvering power 50 percent, maneuvering hardware
completely destroyed.  Emergency beacon damaged, power 63 percent.  Not
good."
     "What can we do?" asked Wood, his new-found calm withering under
this blunt recital.
     "I don't know," rumbled the other.
     "You don't know!"  Wood's calm was gone again.  He rose from his
seat, although he took care to make no threatening moves toward the
Karç.  "You're supposed to know how to run this boat!  You're the
native here!  You're supposed to know what to do!"
     Digush So*ek shook his head, puzzled.  "I will do everything I
can.  This is combat, human.  You don't think I give up, do you?"
     Wood stopped in mid-breath.  No, he didn't think the Karç would
give up.  He'd never even heard of a Karç willingly surrendering; whole
formations had been slaughtered in Karç wars rather than surrender, and
on an individual basis the natives were equally tenacious.  Again
forcing calm, he said, "No, I guess not.  But I'm lost here.  I've got
to depend on you for my own survival.  And to hear that you don't know
what to do isn't exactly reassuring."
     "Not meant to be," the Karç ground out in disgust.  "I tell
truth.  If you don't like truth, I can't help it.  I don't like truth
either, but I don't hide it."
     "All right," said Wood, throwing up his hands.  "Enough with the
lecture already.  What can we start trying to do?"
     "We try to repair maneuvering hardware."
     "But you just said it's been destroyed."
     "I know what I said," Digush So*ek roared.  "I no need lesson from
you!  _Nuf vurmàsthadul sejtar'loç har'vròkelaç vrel mirtest!_"
     Wood couldn't translate the last sentence; he knew only that it
was a question, from the interrogatory _nuf_ began it; that it had
something to do with humans, for he recognized the word _vurmàstha_
with the plural suffix -_dul_ attached; and that it was not a pleased
question, for the tone was clearly exasperated.  As with all questions
in Karçlà, it would have sounded like any other exclamation without the
interrogatory that invariably introduced queries.  With these
ruminations in his head, Wood retreated to his seat again, determined
to keep out of the way of the Karç.  His attempts to carry on a
conversation were only maddening the native, and given Digush So*ek's
size, strength, and quick temper, the human didn't care to get involved
in a slugging match.  Although the Karç rarely punched - why use a
fist, when claws were so much more damaging?
     As Wood watched, the native left the control console and stomped
toward the rear of the lifeboat.  Kneeling near the rear bulkhead, he
snatched at two rings lying in recesses in the deck.  Jerking on the
rings, he lifted a plate from the deck and slung it, crashing, to lean
against the wall.  He reached out with his left hand and smacked a
control on the rear wall - light sprang up from the opening disclosed
by the removal of the deck plate.  Whirling on his knees, Digush So*ek
inserted his feet in the opening and flung himself down.  He
disappeared from sight with a resounding thump of heavy feet on another
deck below.
     Wood, curious, padded toward the hole in the deck.  Looking down,
he saw a typical equipment room - no esthetic concessions, but a lot of
controls packed into a little space.  There was a ladder leading down
to the lower deck, designed for the longer Karç legs.  Negotiating it
with some difficulty, Wood descended; he suddenly preferred the company
of an angry Karç to being alone in the main cabin.
     Here in the equipment space the air was chill; the environmental
controls compensated for the heat produced by electric components and
abhorred by computer equipment.  The lighting was bare fluorescent.
Unadorned metal abounded, studded with switches, dials, panels, and
what appeared to be black box modules.  Digush So*ek was working in the
forward part of the space, a subdued growling testifying to the fact
that his temper was still up.
     Wood advanced cautiously.  He knew the Karç could hear him with
ease - indeed, had probably followed his progress across the floor
above and down the hatch.  But he figured that if he took it easy, he
might be able to at least see what was happening without further
arousing the ferocious native.
     As Wood got to where he could look over Digush So*ek's shoulder,
the Karç slammed down a tool and grabbed hold of some sort of black
box.  His massive right shoulder bunched, and he ripped the box out by
main strength and flung it against the wall.  The box shattered as it
hit, plastic shards spraying around and barely missing the two forms at
the forward bulkhead.  Still unappeased, the Karç's bare hands fastened
on a metal edge and the native heaved back.  With a faint screech of
metal, the flange straightened, the steel bending as if it had been
handled by machine.  Moving with incredible swiftness, the Karç
snatched open a cabinet door, jerked another, newer, black box out, and
rammed it home in the offending slot, the corrected flange giving no
further trouble.  Wood had heard of the extraordinary strength and
speed of a Karç in an adrenaline-fueled rage, and had doubted the
veracity of the reporters.  Now he was prepared to credit anything.
     Digush So*ek's hand smashed down near Wood's feet, the fingers
closing around the tool he had hurled away moments before.  Thrusting
it at the new black box, he performed some sort of operation that to
the human resembled a cross between tightening screws and chiseling
metal.  Whatever the work being done, it took only a few seconds, and
then the Karç punched a button.
     Above the black box, a light glowed green - bad in this case,
since Karç culture used green for "no go" and white for "go."  The
native, enraged beyond all previous anger, cocked his hand, claws
extended and fingers rigidly arched, at the offending panel.  But he
did not strike, instead forcing his fist closed and, with a quick rise
and turn, smashing it into the starboard bulkhead.  The wall boomed,
and incredibly a dent appeared where the Karç's hairy hand struck.
     As with humans, the pain appeared to clear Digush So*ek's head.
He flexed his hand, seeming to find no serious damage from what would
have shattered a human fist, and glared at Wood with less anger than
had been the case just moments before.  He had not recovered from his
emotional turmoil enough, however, to remember to speak in System; what
he said was, "_*u mirtest sutak har'zètaleçi klaç har'yultàrnati_."
Seeing Wood's blank look, the native shook his head, and spoke again.
"This stupid thing no work."
     "What is it?" Wood asked cautiously.
     "Guidance module for maneuvering hardware.  Module no work."
     "Why not?"
     "Don't know.  Even if hardware completely destroyed, module should
work."
     "Maybe," suggested Wood, "something's wrong with the wiring that
connects the module with the engines."
     "Unh."  The Karç thought for a moment.  "I no can fix electric
problem.  I not electrician.  Maybe problem in hardware."  He turned,
brushing past Wood to the port bulkhead.  As he reached it he snarled
in what sounded like frustration, and returning to his scattered tools,
snatched one from the floor.  Back at the bulkhead, he applied the tool
to the four corners of a cover plate, and when the fastenings were
loosened jerked the cover off and let it clang to the floor.
     Wood came up behind the Karç, and peering under instead of over
the great shoulder, watched at the massive hands poked at buttons and
the slitted eyes studied readouts.  Several lights were white, but none
of them were connected in any obvious way with the buttons Digush So*ek
was working.  A growl rose from the Karç's throat, and he slammed his
palm into the wall beside the uncovered panel.
     Wood backed off to what seemed a safer distance.  "What's the
matter?" he asked, without confidence in the native's ability to come
up with a pleasing answer.
     "All connections to engines from here severed.  Only way to access
them is by hand."
     "And how can you do that?"
     "Go outside, open hull inspection plate, work from there."
     "And . . .?"
     "No vacuum suit."
     Wood was stunned.  Surely, he thought, a race as used to war as
the Karç would know how to prepare for emergencies.  He couldn't
believe that there were no pressure suits on the lifeboat.
     The Karç turned and looked at his companion, a fierce glow dying
out in his eyes.  "Usually suits available in lifeboat.  But not this
one.  I see maintenance crew doing checklist on suits last night.  Not
yet replaced when ship destroyed."
     The human stepped to a wall and leaned against it, stunned.  As
the impact of this news penetrated, Wood's legs weakened, and he sank
to the floor.  The cold steel penetrated his pants, but he didn't
notice.  All he could think of was the fact that he was stuck on a
damaged lifeboat with an angry, seven-foot tall approximation of a
tiger turned sentient, and without any way of performing the necessary
work to see if the boat could even be repaired.
     Wood was dimly aware of Digush So*ek striding past and climbing
lithely up the ladder.  He sat for minutes - he didn't know exactly how
many - surrendered to despair.  He could see no way out.  Even if he
had possessed the necessary engineering skills, he could never work in
a suit designed for the Karç, and there were no suits anyway.  The only
question was whether the two unwilling companions would die of
starvation first, or asphyxiation as the life support system lost its
ability to reclaim oxygen.
     Finally Wood rose from the floor.  Looking around rather blankly,
he recollected that Digush So*ek had returned to the cabin.  Shuffling
to the ladder, the human worked his way slowly up the widely spaced
rungs and onto the carpeted main deck.  The warmer air recalled him a
little more to reality, and he stood with a semblance of his usual
vigor.
     The Karç was seated in the pilot's seat, forearms resting on the
darkened control panel and eyes staring out at the stars.  The system's
sun was somewhere behind them - Wood didn't know exactly where - and
with its glare blocked out by the hull of the lifeboat the stars looked
like diamond chips spangled on the darkest velvet.  Red, blue, yellow,
white - even one green star were visible.  The colors were undimmed and
the sharpness was unsoftened by atmosphere.
     Wood flopped into his seat, muscles slack with letdown.  Any fear
of Digush So*ek was drained from him, driven out by the greater fear of
death, and the despair of life that followed that.  He thought that
even if the Karç killed him, it wouldn't be a thing to worry about;
death would come one way or another no matter what.
     Digush So*ek turned, his ears pricked.  Wood apathetically
remembered that this was a sign of interest among the Karç.  "I have
idea," declared the native, rising from his seat.  Wood watched as he
strode to the open hatch and dropped down into it again.
     The human turned his gaze to the stars again.  There was no
apparent motion; the lifeboat was on a steady course, and at sublight
speeds it took generations for any appreciable change in the stars'
positions to occur.  Wood was no philosopher, but he dimly recognized
that the stars, in their permanence, would be there unchanged long
after he was gone, and was made uneasy by the realization.
     Rising from his seat, Wood walked slowly to the hatch.  Listening,
he heard the bangings and scrapings of a Karç at work.  And then he
heard a sound he couldn't place at first, and then couldn't understand
- the noise of a power saw cutting metal.
     Scrambling down the ladder, Wood saw the Karç on his knees, the
portable tool grasped in his hands.  He was cutting through the
deckplates, for what reason the human couldn't fathom.  The blade
screeked through the steel of the deck, metal dust and sparks flying.
Although the sparks landed in Digush So*ek's fur as often as not, he
seemed not to notice, and no fire broke out.
     Finally a square about four feet each way was nearly severed.
Digush So*ek tossed the saw against the wall and grabbed a metal bar.
Inserting the bar in the aperture made by the saw, he pried the flap of
deck up a few inches, enough to get his hands under it.  Wrapping his
palms in some sort of stiff cloth for protection, the Karç stood on the
attached side of the metal, bent down and grabbed the other edge, and
heaved.  The steel resisted at first, then came up with a scream of
bending metal.
     After a moment the newly-formed lid was bent back almost to the
deck.  Digush So*ek knelt down again, his eyes glittering with the new
rush of adrenaline the activity was providing.  Wood, for lack of
anything better to do, wandered over and stood looking down into the
space revealed by the lifted flap.
     The space was crammed with gear the human couldn't even guess at
the purpose of.  Perhaps an engineer could have figured out what that
item resembling a discus did, or why three black wires emanated from an
assembly that looked like an angel food cake pan, but he hadn't a clue.
The Karç, on the other hand, appeared to have some inkling of what he
was doing, for he poked and prodded at various bits of equipment,
wiggling wires and in one case smacking a cubical metal casing with the
edge of his hand.
     Wood cleared his throat.  "What are you doing?" he asked, without
a whole lot of real interest.
     "I can't get to inspection hatch.  So I make hole in deck and try
this way.  But I don't know if I can reach proper things from here."
     "So we're still stuck here."  The prospect, having already
terrified Wood beyond fear, didn't seem to affect him further.
     "Yes," ground out the native, his frustration rising quickly to
the surface again.  He slammed his fist against the same piece of
equipment he'd already struck once, and it shifted out of position a
bit.
     Wood got down on his own knees and peered into the cramped space.
"It looks like maybe I could crawl around in there," he muttered
without any real anticipation of doing so.
     "Unh."  Digush So*ek seemed to like that noncommittal sound.  He
lay prone, sending his eyes around the space.  "Pretty small."
     "Yeah," replied the human, his faint interest fading already.
"Well, we tried," he added, rising.
     The Karç rose quickly beside him.  "This is chance to try again."
     Wood didn't get it.  "But  we already tried.  We can't fix the
engines."
     "No," growled Digush So*ek.  "You say you maybe fit inside.  We
try again."
     "Look," burst out the human, his frustration, fear, apathy, and
shock suddenly combining into one irrational burst of anger, "we're
stuck!  We're going to die out here!  There just isn't anything we can
do, don't you see that?"
     "We try again," stubbornly repeated the Karç.
     "No!" shouted Wood.  "_You_ can try it, but I won't, and _we_
won't!" Digush So*ek rose to his feet, Wood following him.  "We try
again, vurmàstha.  You don't like it, I don't care.  But we try again."
     "No!" screamed the human, despair rendering him incapable of
coherent thought or speech.  He bunched his fist and swung at the Karç,
and Digush So*ek, taken completely by surprise, was unable to block the
blow.  His reaction was quick, however; he swung a backhanded blow that
sent Wood flying the length of the chill compartment to smack into the
rear bulkhead.
     Wood lay glassy-eyed on the floor.  The Karç advanced on the balls
of his feet, the extended claws clicking and scraping on the metal
deck.  His fingers were hooked, and the wicked talons were fully
exposed.  Wood, faintly terrified at this approaching fiend, scrambled
to his feet up the ladder, which he had just missed in his involuntary
flight.  He fled to the farthest point from the open hatch, and fell
shaking into the pilot's seat.
     Digush So*ek emerged from the hatch a moment later.  But his eyes
didn't blaze with their former fire, and as he clambered to the main
deck and walked forward Wood could see that the Karç's claws were once
again retracted.  He seemed bewildered as he asked, "_Nuf sejvròkelaç
leç vurmàsthadul roge* gratiçlodul_."
     Again Wood only recognized the sentence as a question because of
the interrogatory _nuf_ which introduced it; Karçlà inflection didn't
help in telling questions from statements.  He stared blankly at Digush
So*ek, and the native realized that once again he'd spoken without
thinking in his mother tongue.
     "Are all humans such cowards?" the Karç asked again, this time in
System.
     "Cowards?" repeated Wood.
     "Yes."  The Karç sat in the chair that Wood had been using.  "You
give up easy."
     "It's not cowardice to recognize the hopelessness of a situation.
It's just common sense.  When you're beaten, why keep on fighting?"
     "I not beaten," declared the Karç, his fangs showing.  "I not
beaten until I dead."
     "But that's just it," responded the human.  "We are dead, our
bodies just don't know enough to quit working.  There's no way we can
survive without food and water, and this lifeboat is too badly damaged
to get us to safety."
     "That's why I want to fix lifeboat," said Digush So*ek.  "If we
fix, maybe we make to safety."
     "Don't you get it?" asked Wood, his earlier anger fizzled out in
the depression that was more strongly than ever claiming him.  "We
can't fix the thing.  It's worthless.  We're stuck out here.  We can't
get at the hardware to perform the necessary repairs, and anyway you
said earlier that they're beyond fixing."
     "Instruments say that.  I try anyway.  Maybe I find way to fix."
     "Are you an engineer?" Wood asked.
     "No.  I warrior.  I fight."
     "Then you can't fix the engines.  You've tinkered around and
you've tried this and that, and I respect your guts and ingenuity.  But
you can't fix the engines.  You might as well accept that."
     Digush So*ek shook his head.  "I accept my responsibility to
fight."
     "Fight?" asked Wood.  "But why?  What is there to gain?"
     "Don't know all.  But some I know.  One thing, I don't fight, I
coward.  I run away from challenge, I give up, I no have courage.
Another thing, I fight, maybe I fix engines after all; for sure, I
don't fight, I no fix engines.  Another thing, I fight, maybe I find
way to prolong survival.  And if we live long enough, maybe rescue ship
find us.  And last thing, I fight, I know I do my best, no matter what
happens.  But I don't fight, I quit without doing my best."
     Wood shook his own head.  He'd seen from the outside the
differences between human culture and Karç ways, but this gave him, for
the first time, some sort of real understanding.  He, as a human,
reacted with a mixture of irrational emotionalism and quite logical
fatalism.  He first panicked, inside at least even if he didn't show it
outwardly, and then, when the adrenaline rush of the terror had
subsided, resigned himself to the fate that was made inevitable by his
inability to do anything about his situation.
     But the Karç refused to give in to either panic or despair.  If
Digush So*ek felt any fear, it didn't show.  He grew angry at each new
frustration - angry enough to destroy offending components, dent a
steel bulkhead with his fist, and smack Wood across the room with a
rather indifferent backhand.  His temper warmed and cooled by turns,
but anger was the only emotional reaction he displayed; fear and
resignation were foreign to his nature.
     Fired by this realization, Wood began to rethink his decision to
surrender to hopelessness.  So what if they died anyway?  Why not do
doing something useful?  What did death mean, if it came to an
apathetic lump whimpering in a corner?  Surely for his death to have
meaning, it must come when he was striving with all his strength to
stave it off.
     The human raised his head and look at his alien companion.  "Okay,
let's try.  It can't hurt, after all, and like I said, I just may be
able to crawl around down there."
     Digush So*ek nodded sharply and rose from his seat.  Wood stood
and followed the Karç down the ladder and across the cold deck to the
crude hatch.  As they stood by the opening in the steel plating, Digush
So*ek thought aloud, as much for Wood's benefit as for his own.  I say
before, maneuvering hardware destroyed.  We no can replace all; no have
components, and some is outside hull.  But maybe we can replace some
important components, and repair some others.
     "We have to do this way.  First, you go down hole.  Then I hand
down things you probably need.  Then you move toward hardware area,
taking tools and parts with you.  Not easy, but only way."
     "Yes."  Wood was musing.  "Is all the stuff I'll have to work on
in the same place?"
     "Yes, mostly.  We do that first.  If we can fix, then we go to
two, three other things.  If no can fix, no use trying other things."
     "True."  Wood found a clear spot on the deck of the equipment
space and dropped through the hole.  Standing now on what was actually
the skin of the vessel - though well insulated and very strong - Wood
found the actual deck hit him just below the waist.  Careful to avoid
the sharp, jagged edges of the hole, he crouched, then lay on his side
in the equipment space.  He could see that while thee was plenty of
distance between what would soon become his floor and ceiling, much of
the space was crammed with equipment and conduits that filled the space
with blockages and created narrow holes.  It would be difficult to get
anywhere without having to haul anything with him.
     Looking up, Wood saw that Digush So*ek had already created a
small pile of gear by the edge of the hole.  Reaching up a hand as he
lay on his side, Wood began transferring the pile down to his level.
The tool box was heavy; the Karç, with their more powerful muscles, had
never worried much about the weight of their tools, which tended to be
made of solid steel.
                                 ^ ^ ^
     After two hours crammed into the confined space, Wood was a mass
of aches and cramps.  As he worked the screws out of the brackets that
held a burned out module to the deck, his hand shook with fatigue and
his legs quivered in pain.  Only the knowledge of death in space kept
him in the cramped equipment space; that, and the realization that he
might not be able to get out in his condition before his conscience
drove him back to work.
     The last screw finally came out, and the module slid easily out of
its slot.  The replacement slid in just as easily, and Wood began the
torturous task of replacing the screws.  He didn't try to make them as
tight as he had found them; the goal just now was a jury-rigged repair,
not professional quality work.  If everything worked, thee wouldn't be
time enough for loose screws to be a problem, and if they did cause
trouble, he could retighten them later.
     With the screws in place, Wood looked down at his pile, only to
find that there was nothing in it but tools and ruined and replaced
parts.  He gazed dumbly at the mess for a moment, unable to grasp the
meaning.  Then, raising his voice to carry up through the hole in the
deck above, he shouted, "Try the engines!"
     Without waiting for an acknowledgment, he began working himself
around to crawl back out.  It was difficult, for the space had never
been meant for occupancy, but he made it.  Shoving the toolbox ahead of
him, he began his painful progress toward the make-shift hatch.
Crawling over boxes that held electrical components, squeezing through
gaps between equipment or holes where conduits met, he scraped more
skin and broke out into a fresh sweat, in spite of the chill air that
poured down from above.  It took him 15 minutes to reach the hole and
pull himself into a sitting position.
     He glanced toward the ladder at the rear of the space.  Digush
So*ek stood there, his fangs bared in the wide, fearsome Karç smile.
Wood felt his pulse quicken.  "You're not smiling because I failed."
     "No.  Not perfect, but we can move.  I turn around already.  We
headed for Tushà.  Soon we be in shipping lanes.  Even if maneuvering
hardware fails again, we no die.  Soon ship will find us."