The Great Hydration

On being conducted into the giant hydrorium Castaneda was overcome by astonishment mixed with nervousness. It was impressive, seriously impressive, to see so grandiose an artificial environment on so arid and poverty-stricken a world. If human beings had built it, of course, it would be a routine piece of engineering. But the lobsters had kept this going in adverse circumstances for a very long time. He doubted if his own species would have been able to do that. Something would have gone wrong sooner or later, perhaps of a social character. The delicate balance of a closed biological system would have collapsed.

Yes, the lobsters. That was what frightened him. They were capable. But they had the partners in their grasp, and might not realize what a catastrophe it would be for them if they did Krabbe and Bouche any harm.

As usual, the partners had breezed in apparently oblivious of any danger to themselves. It was one of their many qualities which Castaneda admired. But he wished he didn’t have to follow them into the spider’s parlour.

Being in the presence of the lobsters was scary, too. For all their alienness they exuded a familiar air of menace—the menace of a master race accustomed to command. The partners would have had a tougher job being taken seriously, Boris Bouche commented, if it hadn’t been for their trick of swallowing water. That had set them apart from the dehydrates.

Krabbe and Bouche greeted Castaneda cheerily, almost drunkenly, draping a translator band around his neck on the instant. Castaneda was given no time for mental adjustment. He launched himself into his presentation before Tlixix leaders and scientists who reared over him in their rank-smelling pool. Then the scientists questioned him closely and at length. They were the repositories of all the knowledge of their race. They had their own map of pre-dehydration Tenacity, and compared it in detail with the one Castaneda had drawn up. His description of the faultlines fascinated them. It was the first explanation they had ever heard of how Tenacity lost its water. They cast their four milky-white eyes on the locations of the proposed drilling. They grew more and more excited.

The translation package was elegant. Using some deft algorithm, it managed to give a representation of the lobsters’ hoary character, giving them voices that mostly were hoarsely ferocious but sometimes condescendingly gentle—just the sort of tones masters would develop for dealing with their slaves.

It took hours, but in the end they seemed convinced. Krabbe and Bouche took over again, together with Shelley, the lawyer. The Tlixix scientists remained, but now it was mainly the top lobsters who did the talking.

This time it was Castaneda’s turn to be fascinated. He always was, every time he had been present when the partners came to the crunch in a negotiation. Piece by piece, they were buying a planet.

But there was one more thing. The Tlixix still wanted to see the big ship in orbit. That was their guarantee that they weren’t being conned. And, they made it clear, they did not want either Krabbe or Bouche personally to be their guide. The partners were to stay on Tenacity pending the outcome of the project.

And so, once Shelley had drawn up the final contract, Castaneda found himself lofting Enterprise-ward in the lighter, in company with the lawyer and a high-ranking Tlixix, filling the cabin with the tang of seaweed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

No description by Karvass could have prepared Hrityu for the underground camp of the Artaxa.

They had travelled far from the World Market. Continuing to follow the Artaxa, whose prowed craft ploughed its way endlessly through the shifting sand, Hrityu had been almost disappointed not to encounter more Gaminte patrols—or even better, Crome warbands. He would have liked the chance to try out the weapon given him by the mysterious moss-headed stranger.

At length, a cluster of hills appeared in close formation, the sand having been blown off their peaks to reveal multi-hued ochre rock. Karvass steered his sand-boat on a winding course among them, losing himself to Hrityu’s view several times, until entering a box canyon. Hrityu was puzzled that he should make for so obvious a dead end; until he noticed, at the far end, a shadow cast by a broad overhanging shelf of rock.

Straight into that shadow plunged the sand-boat. More cautiously, Hrityu followed, coming to a halt on finding himself at the top of a wide bank which sloped dawn into underground darkness.

Karvass’s craft was already out of sight. Hrityu motivated his outer wheels again, setting off down the slope.

Soon he was in pitch blackness, carefully holding back his vehicle as it slid and slithered on loose shale. He did not know how far underground he was when a greenish glow appeared below him, slowly swelling into a steady, soft light. And then he was nearly at the bottom of the incline, looking down into a huge cavern.