Unspecialist | Page 4

at the ship's spec-scanner. "Looks like we're in a belt of meteorites. We'll be able to match velocities, but we could still be creamed if the path gets too eccentric. Show him the way, Harcraft. I don't want to take any longer than necessary, either. Understand?"
Fifteen minutes later, both Arnold and Harcraft were out of the air lock, each clutching a new phase unit. Harcraft called instructions to Arnold over his suit's inter-com, but within minutes the smaller man was, if anything, more adept at the business of maneuvering himself through the void than his teacher. They replaced the phase unit in the first sled--the fiftieth from the ship--with Harcraft doing the work and Arnold watching.
"Can you do the next one alone?" Harcraft asked.
"Easy as pie," Arnold said. "Where is it?"
"About two hundred sleds farther back. Numbers on the side. Number two hundred sixty-three. Can you remember?"
"I ain't dumb. Where you gonna be?"
"Back in the ship. We'll be waiting for you."
* * * * *
Back again in the control cabin with Banner, Harcraft was about to congratulate himself on inventing the apprentice system, when a piercing scream brought both men to their feet. "It's Arnold," Banner said. "Arnold, you all right?"
Harcraft pushed Banner away from the speaker. "Arnold, what's wrong, you O.K.?" The speaker remained silent.
"You better suit up," Banner said quietly.
"Yeah," Harcraft said, staring dumbly at the speaker. "Yeah, I better suit up."
"Wait. Better take a look on the viewscreen."
"Hey, he's coming this way! Quick, get ready at the air lock!"
It was fifteen minutes before they could get anything out of him, and then he wasn't too coherent. They gave him an injection of herodine to quiet him down, but his eyes still rolled wildly and all he could manage was: "Big hunk of rock ... big hunk of rock ... rock, quick ... monkey ships."
"Any idea what he's talking about?"
"No," Banner said thoughtfully. "There was a sizable meteorite that came pretty close while you were on your way back to the ship, but I'd already tracked it before either one of you went outside."
"How close?"
"Hm-m-m. Visually, a dozen kilometers, I'd guess. I could run the tape if you--"
"Velocities almost the same?" asked Harcraft, who was now fiddling with the viewscreen controls.
"Yeah. Shouldn't be too hard to find. How about lugging Bean Brain back to his bunk. I'll run the tape, then you can plot it on the screen."
When Harcraft returned to the control cabin, Banner had already plotted it on the screen.
"I'll say it's a big piece of rock! About four kilometers in diameter."
"Yeah, but nothing out of order."
"Uh-huh. Let me turn up the magnification a little and see if--" Banner watched as Harcraft turned control buttons, skillfully increasing magnification without losing the held of view. Suddenly, the object exploded into iridescence. "What--"
"Watch," Harcraft said. He bumped the magnification as much as he dared.
"The Ankorbadian fleet," said Banner between clenched teeth.
They spent the next hour scanning the ship's micro-library for anything at all on Ankorbadian religious practices. There was nothing. Arnold awoke in another hour and seemed remarkably free of hysteria.
"What do you know about our friends' religious holiday?" asked Banner. "We checked the library without any luck."
Arnold scratched the side of his face. "Lemme think. Yeah, I remember. They go home to celebrate spring, like you said."
"They all go home?"
"Uh-huh. They got to. Only time they can mate. Only place, too."
"How long they stay? I've heard it's about one of our months, but we have to know exactly."
"That's all I know. Read it some place a long time ago. Can I go back to sleep now?"
"Go back to sleep," said Banner.
They spent the next three hours maneuvering carefully around the asteroid. They took six thousand feet of movies and stared at the projections for another three hours. One thousand seven hundred and thirty silvery needles flashed reflected starlight into astonished, wild eyes.
"At least," whispered Banner, "there's nobody there."
"A lot of good that does us. They'll be back from their home planet in a few weeks, just as soon as the breeding season is over. Why should they leave anybody here? There's not a map in the galaxy that indicates the position of this piece of rock. And we haven't any weapons."
"I don't suppose the computer--"
"You can't compute an orbit without at least one more reference point. Besides, we're four weeks from any kind of fleet contact."
"Great. In other words, they'll be back here, ready to roll before we can even tell anybody that we don't know how to find it again."
"Right. And since there's not any room left to park another ship of that size, it's a pretty safe assumption that they are ready to roll."
"Armageddon," muttered Harcraft.
"You sure we don't have anything to--"
"Weapons? Yeah. We have a pistol and three small nitro paks in a locker