In a way it was too bad that all the communication went through the human station. One of the major and primary tasks of the Esket crew was to modify the old system, or to produce a new one, with much more flexibility in the number of people it could take care of; and for all Dondragmer knew, this end might have been accomplished months ago.

His musings were interrupted by the communicator.

“Captain1 Benj Hoffman here. Would it be too much trouble to set up one of the viewers so that we could watch your men work on the melting project? Maybe the one on the bridge would do if you just slid it out to starboard and faced it aft.”

“That will be easy enough,” replied the captain. “I was thinking perhaps it would be well for some of you people to watch the work.”

Since the set weighed less than five hundred pounds in Dhrawn’s gravity, it was only its rather awkward dimensions which gave him trouble; he faced about the same problem as a man trying to move an empty refrigerator carton. By pushing it along the deck, rather than trying to pick it up, he working it into a good position in a few seconds. In due course, the boy’s acknowledgment came back.

“Thanks captain; that’s good. I can see the ground along the starboard side, and what I suppose is the main lock, and some of your people working along the side. It’s a little hard to judge distances, but I know how big the Kwembly is and abut how far back the main lock is, and, of course, I know how big your people are, so I’d guess your lights let me see the ice for fifty or sixty yards on past the lock.”

Dondragmer was surprised. “I can see fully three times that far; no, wait; you’re using your twelve based numbers so it’s not that much — but I do see father. Eyes must be better than the pickup cells in your set. I hope, though, that you are not just watching what goes on here. Are the other screens for the Kwembly sets all where you can see them? Or are there other people watching them? I want to be kept in as close touch as I possibly can with the search party that has just left on foot. After what happened to Reffel, I’m uneasy about both them and their set.”

Dondragmer was debating with his own conscience as he sent this message. On the one hand, he was pretty certain that Reffel had shuttered his set deliberately, thought it was even less clear to him than to Barlennan why this should have been necessary. On the other was his disapproval of the secrecy of the whole Esket maneuver. He would not, of course, deliberately ruin Barlennan’s plans by any act of his own; but he would not be too disappointed if everything came out in the open. There certainly was a reasonable chance that Reffel was in real trouble; if, as seemed likely, whatever had happened to him had occurred only a few miles away, he had had time to get back and explain even on foot.

In other words, Dondragmer had a good excuse, but disliked the thought that he even needed one. After all, there was Kervenser, too.

“All four screens are right in front of me,” Benj’s assurance came back. “Just now I’m alone at this station, though there are other people in the room. Mother is about ten feet away, at the Esket screens — did anyone tell you that something moved on one of those? — and Mr. Mersereau has just gone off for another argument with Dr. Aucoin.” (Barlennan would have given a great deal to hear that sentence.) “There are about then other observers in the room watching the other sets, but I don’t know any of them very well. Reffel’s screen is still blank, five people are working in whatever room in the Kwembly your other set is in but I can’t tell you just what they’re doing, and your foot party is just walking along. I can see only a few feet from them, and only in one direction of course. The lights they’re carrying aren’t nearly as strong as the ones around the Kwembly. If anything does come after them, or some trouble develops, I may not even get as much warning as they do; and of course, there’ll be the delay before I could tell then anyway.”

“Will you reminded them of that?” asked Dondragmer. “The leader is named Stakendee. He doesn’t have enough of the human language to do any good. He may very well be depending too heavily on you and your equipment for warning; I’m afraid I took for granted, without saying much of anything about it, that your set would help him that way when we were planning the search. Please tell him that it is strictly an indirect communicator between him and me.”

The boy’s resp9onse was considerably longer in coming than light lag alone would explain; presumably he was carrying out the request without bothering to acknowledge its receipt. The captain decided not to make a point of the matter; Hoffman was very young. There was plenty else to keep Dondragmer busy, and he occupied himself with this, filing the unfinished conversation until Benj’s voice once more reached the bridge.

“I’ve been in touch with Stak and told him what you asked. He promised to take care, but he’s not very far from the Kwembly yet — still among the stones, and they give out a little way upstream, you remember. He’s still on the map, I think, though I can’t really tell one square yard of that rock garden from another. It’s either smooth ice, or ice with cobblestones sticking up through it, or occasionally cobblestones with no ice between them. I don’t see how they’re going to search it very effectively. Even if you climb on the highest rock in the neighborhood, there are a lot of others you can’t see behind. The helicopters aren’t very big, and you Mesklinites are a lot smaller.”

“We realized that when we sent out the party,” Dondragmer answered. “A really effective search will be nearly impossible among the stones if the missing people are dead or even helpless. However, as you said, the stones give way to bare rock a short distance from here; and in any case, it is possible that Kerv or Reffel could answer calls, or call for help themselves. Certainly one can be heard much farther than he can be seen, at night. Also, whatever is responsible for their disappearance may be bigger or easier to spot.” The captain had a pretty good idea how Benj would answer the last sentence. He was right.

“Finding whatever that is by having another group disappear wouldn’t put us much farther ahead.”

“It would if we actually learned what had happened. Keep in close touch with Stakendee’s party, please, Benj. My own time is going to be taken up with other matters, and you’ll learn whatever happens half a minute before I could anyway. I don’t know that those seconds will make much real difference, but at least you’re closer to Stak in time than I am.

“Also, I have to go outside now. We’re getting to a ticklish point in taking this metal bar off the hull. I’d bring one of the sets outside to keep in closer touch with you, but I wouldn’t be able to hear you very well though a suit. The volume of these communicators of yours isn’t very impressive. I’ll give you a call when I’m back in touch; there’s no one handy to leave on watch here. In the meantime please keep a running log, in any way you find convenient, on what happens to Stakendee.”

The captain waited just long enough to receive Benj’s acknowledgement — which did arrive this time — before making his way down to the lock and donning his airsuit. Preferring an inside climb to an outside one, he took the ramps back to the bridge and made use of the small lock which gave onto the top of the hull — a U-shaped pip of liquid ammonia just about large enough for a Mesklinite body. Dondragmer unsealed and lifted the inner lid and entered the three-gallon pool of liquid, the cover closing by its own weight above him. He followed the curve down and up again, and emerged through a similar lid outside the bridge.

With the smooth plastic of the hull curving down on all sides, except aft, he felt a little tense, of course; but he had long ago learned to control himself even in high places. His nippers flashed from one holdfast to another as he made his way aft to the point where the few remaining refrigerator attachments were still intact. Two of these were the ones which extended entirely though the hull as electrical contacts, and were therefore, the ones which caused Dondragmer the most concern. The others, as he had hoped, were prying out of the cruiser’s skin like nails; but these last ones would have to be severed, and severed so they could be reconnected later on. Welding and soldering were arts which Dondragmer knew only in theory, but whatever substitute was to be used would certainly need a stub projecting from the hull as a starting point. The captain wanted to make particularly sure that the cutting was done far enough out to leave one.