Escape Attempt

Chapter 4-1

Vadim was the last to crawl out of the Ship and immediately turned to Saul: “The simplest thing would be to check in the ancient dictionaries. But on board...”

Ship At that point he noticed that Saul was not listening to him. Saul holding his scorcher in firing position, the barrel across his bent elbow, and his expression was troubled. His eyes were roaming over the entire area. Vadim looked around and saw the man. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said in dismay.

Anton walked up to the man, while Saul remained where he was. Is it possible that I killed him in landing the Ship? Vadim thought in horror. Everything inside him cringed from the thought. He dashed after Anton and also bent over the body. He took just one glance, then immediately straightened up, and looked away. All around there stretched the gloomy hills, snow-covered and identical; the sky was clouded over, and the pale outline of a mountain range could be divined on the horizon. What a sad planet, he thought.

Ship? The fields and mountains:

Softly the snow stole everything.

All at once, emptiness.

Anton dropped to his knees and felt the hand of the body. The hand was narrow, white, with thin porcelain fingers and long nails that glittered gold.

“Well?” Vadim said and swallowed hard.

Anton stood up and carefully wiped the snow from his bare knees. “He froze to death. Several days ago. And he is very emaciated.”

“It’s hopeless?”

“Yes. He’s already like a rock.”

“Rock,” Vadim repeated. “How can it be? Look, he’s just a kid.”

He forced himself to look the dead man in the face. “Look, he resembles Valery! Do you remember Valery?”

Anton put his hand on Vadim’s shoulder. “Yes, a close resemblance.”

“I was really scared. I thought I had killed him in landing.”

“No, he’s been lying here several days already. He collapsed from exhaustion and froze.”

“Listen Anton – why is he wearing just a shirt?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go back to the Ship.”

Ship.Vadim didn’t budge. “I don’t understand. So we’re not the first?”

He glanced around, looking for Saul. Saul was gone. “Anton, maybe you’re wrong? Maybe we can still do something?”

“Let’s go, Vadim.”

“But how could... ?”

“How should I know? Let’s go.”

They spotted Saul. He was slowly descending a slope, sliding on the damp snow. They stood and waited until he reached them. His expression was gloomy, and large snowflakes were melting on his cheeks. His knees were covered with snow. He walked up, took his extinguished pipe from his mouth, and said, “Things are bad, my young friends. There are four more over there.” He looked at the dead man. “Also without coats. What do you intend to do?”

“Let’s go inside the Ship,” Anton said. “We can think everything over there.”

Ship,Back in the lounge they sat down in the chairs and were silent for a while. Vadim shivered all over, and for some reason felt like talking.

“What a planet!” he said. “Never heard of anything like it. Can’t understand a thing. Where are they from? What are they doing down here? After all, we were supposed to be the first ones. And most important – it’s a kid. How did a kid turn up here?” He fell silent and closed his eyes, trying to chase away the vision of the snow-sprinkled face.

Anton stood up and started to pace around the table, his head hanging. Saul packed his pipe.

“Mind if I smoke?” he asked.

“Go ahead, please,” Anton said distractedly. He stopped his pacing. “Here’s what we’ll do now,” he said decisively. “We have the glider. We’ll take food and clothing and conduct a spiral search around the Ship. There might be some people still alive in the hills.”

Ship. His voice was hard, the tone unfamiliar to Vadim. Vadim glanced at him with curiosity, and Anton noticed.

“Look here, friends” he said more amiably. “The tourist flight is over. The situation, in my opinion, is highly unusual. It is up to me as captain to take command, and up to you to follow orders.” He looked at Saul and shrugged his shoulders. “You see, Saul, there’s nothing that can be done.”

“Yes,” Saul said. “Yes. Of course. I’m ready. Go ahead and give orders.”

“You’ve already figured everything out?” Vadim asked.

“We’ll discuss it later,” Anton said. “Right now we have to grow the glider. Let’s go, Vadim.”

Saul let his pipe down and also stood up, adjusting the scorcher strap over his shoulder.

“Thanks, Saul, but we’ll manage by ourselves,” Anton said.

“I’d like to come along,” Saul said. “I won’t get in the way, captain.”

They carried the egg outside and set it down on a hilltop a short distance from the Ship. The snow was coming down heavier, the flakes tickled their cheeks, and Vadim angrily smeared them across his face. A wind was blowing and it was cold standing there watching Anton unhurriedly and efficiently fastening the activators onto the smooth surface of the mechanize-embryo. The wind burned their bare arms and legs, and Vadim suddenly thought that perhaps somewhere beyond the hills, at that very moment, barefooted people in long gray shirts were wandering, collapsing in the snowdrifts.

Ship. Anion straightened up and blew on his reddened hands. “I think that does it,” he said. “Check it, Vadim.”

Vadim inspected the emplacement of the activators. Everything was in order. They headed back to the Ship. On the way, Vadim picked several flowers and lamented how pathetic and pale they were.

Ship. The living and the dead,

Softly the snow stole everything:

All at once, emptiness.

The snow was coming down heavier and heavier, and as they approached the Ship, Saul said, “Soon everything will be buried. It might be good to do an autopsy.”

Ship, “Why?” Anton said. “He’s dead beyond hope.”

“That’s precisely why. We should determine the cause of their death.”

“They froze,” Anton said. “And we don’t need an autopsy.”

“It seemed to me...” Saul started, but immediately broke off and crawled through the hatch.

When they were all seated in the lounge, Anton said, “Remember, I’m not a real doctor. And I... just don’t want to.”

“I understand,” Saul said.

“Vadim,” Anton said, “pack the food. All available supplies. Saul, you said you knew how to sew. We have to throw together some suits. And I’ll get the medicines together.”

The jumpsuits were all one size, made of a stretch material, but the difference in height between Saul and Anton was great. The jumpsuit had to be compressed for Anton and expanded for Saul. And it immediately became clear that Saul did not know how to sew. Apparently historians, sitting in their cozy studies, hadn’t the slightest idea of such simple things. Probably they were more interested in how things used to be done. Vadim had to take the nozzle away from Saul and show him how it was done. To his amazement, the historian turned out to be a quick learner, and in several minutes each was busy with his own job.

Vadim finished packing the sack, fastened it shut, and sat down at the table. “Were the other four also young?” he asked.

“Yes,” Saul answered. “Just kids. Almost adolescents. Much younger than you.”

“Five years ago,” Vadim said, “some of the guys and I wanted to take a ship and fly out to Tagora. We didn’t get permission... Maybe they had more luck?”

“I can’t understand it,” Anton said. “Only an experienced pilot can receive a ship. And how could any of them have experience? Just kids! I just can’t understand it. Golden nails. Weird shirts and bare bodies! But the main question is how they got here.”

“Very simple,” Vadim said. “Someone was planning a flight, left the starship in the yard, they sneaked in at night and took off.

Playing Rumata the Explorer. And climbed out here and got lost. The cold hit them fast. That’s it.”

“What you say,” Anton said coldly, “is totally impossible. Even if it had been that way, I would have known. They died several days ago. On Earth, a global search would have been declared.”

“But if they came with someone older?”

Anton was silent.

“Then let’s find the older ones,” he said finally.

“One thing bothers me,” Vadim said. “Those unimaginable shirts...”

“They’re not shirts,” Saul said unexpectedly.

Anion and Vadim turned toward him.

“They’re bags, with holes for the heads and arms. Coarse burlap bags. They don’t make them anymore,” he grinned sadly. “You know, Vadim, the kids would have found it easier to get a scorcher or bathysphere than just one bag like that. I’m really troubled by the fact that they were wearing bags instead of clothes.”

Saul unfolded a jumpsuit, held it up with outstretched arms, and looked around.

“Therefore I don’t agree with you,” he continued. “I think that they’re local inhabitants. And – I don’t know whether you’ll understand me – during the times of burlap sacks strange things happened. It seems to me that the young people were stripped n***d. And abandoned here, in the wilderness. Try it on, Anton.”

Anton took the jumpsuit. “So, in your opinion, a civilization exists on Saula?” he asked mistrustfully. “And this is the era of burlap bags?”

“How could I know, captain? I’m only inferring from what I see. I see burlap bags, I know that burlap bags don’t exist on Earth in our time. Therefore, they’re not Earthlings. Maybe they were pillaged. Maybe they’re pilgrims. Fanatics. They vowed to worship the holy power, walking, in accordance with their vow, in sackcloth, strayed from the road, ended up in a blizzard.... Who knows?”

Vadim was unfavorably impressed by all this. All those words, “pilgrim,” “holy power,” “vow,” were familiar to him; they were somehow connected with religious rites, but they did not have any real significance for him. For a flash he thought with respect that apparently Saul was a real specialist. But that wasn’t what impressed him most.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Consequently, a civilization? So... we’ve gone out for a stroll and just happened to discover a civilization! I don’t believe it,” he announced.

“Incidentally,” Anton said thoughtfully, “EN 7031 was listed in planned explorations, but the expedition never took place. And meanwhile EN 7031 is on the list of stars lying on the hypothetical path of the Wanderers.”

“Never heard of such a list,” Vadim said.

“It exists. The Gorbovsky-Bader list. So there was a chance of finding a civilization, Vadim. Or maybe Saul is right – they are local kids. And whatever connection they have to the Wanderers is a separate question.”

Vadim was sitting at the table, leaning on his elbows with his head in his hands. Some civilization, he thought. All right, suppose they are the victims of pillaging. But it’s all absurd: healthy sixteen-year-olds allowing themselves to be undressed without resistance and freezing submissively. But they’re not fanatics! He imagined a fanatic. A bald, emaciated old man with wild eyes, an enormous rusty chain over his shoulder. No, he thought, those are no fanatics! Maybe it’s the Wanderers themselves! Yes. In burlap bags. The thought of the cyclopean structures that the Wanderers had left on Vladislava and sadness seized him. A similar sadness avalanched down on him whenever he took on a problem beyond his grasp.