The crews of repairmen were working down in the hull, and the
Swiftwing was a hell of clanging noise and shuddering heat.
Maintenance was working overtime, but the rest of the crew, with nothing
to do, stood around in the recreation rooms, tried to play games, cursed
the heat and the dreary dimness through the viewports, and twitched at
the boiler-factory racket from the holds.
Toward the end of the third day, the biologist reported air, water and
gravity well within tolerable limits, and Captain Vorongil issued
permission for anyone who liked, to go outside and have a look around.
Bart had a sort of ship-induced claustrophobia. It was good to feel
solid ground under his feet and the rays of a sun, even a green sun, on
his back. Even more, it was good to get away from the constant presence
of his shipmates. During this enforced idleness, their presence
oppressed him unendurably--so many tall forms, gray skins, feathery
crests. He was always alone; for a change, he felt that he'd like to be
alone without Lhari all around him.
But as he moved away from the ship, Ringg dropped out of the hatchway
and hailed him. "Where are you going?"
"Just for a walk."
Ringg drew a deep breath of weariness. "That sounds good. Mind if I come
along?"
Bart did, but all he could say was, "If you like."
"How about let's get some food from the rations clerk, and do some
exploring?"
The sun overhead was a clear greenish-gold, the sky strewn with soft
pale clouds that cast racing shadows on the soft grass underfoot,
fragrant pinkish-yellow stuff strewn with bright vermilion puff-balls.
Bart wished he were alone to enjoy it.
"How are the repairs coming?"
"Pretty well. But Karol got his hand half scorched off, poor fellow.
Just luck the same thing didn't happen to me." Ringg added. "You know
that Mentorian--the young one, the medic's assistant?"
"I've seen her. Her name's Meta, I think." Suddenly, Bart wished the
Mentorian girl were with him here. It would be nice to hear a human
voice.
"Oh, is it a female? Mentorians all look alike to me," Ringg said, while
Bart controlled his face with an effort. "Be that as it may, she saved
me from having the same thing happen. I was just going to lean against a
strip of sheet metal when she screamed at me. Do you think they can
really see heat vibrations? She called it red-hot."
They had reached a line of tall cliffs, where a steep rock-fall divided
off the plain from the edge of the mountains. A few slender, drooping,
gold-leaved trees bent graceful branches over a pool. Bart stood
fascinated by the play of green sunlight on the emerald ripples, but
Ringg flung himself down full length on the soft grass and sighed
comfortably. "Feels good."