"Escape From The Crater"

Escape From The Crater

by Carl L. Biemiller

Published by Doubleday & Company, Inc., Garden City, New York.

The floor of the cavern which served the Kirl as their science repository, the semi-library-lab which Kim was certain was a time capsule left for the Ocean People by scouts of the men who once lived in the lost Hawaii hive, gleamed like burnished stone. It was hard, true enough, and occasionally he and Genright and Tuktu squirmed into new positions for comfort. But it was warm with a radiant heat that seemed to come from some subterranean source, which also filtered upward through the walls.

There was a glow from those walls, not a milky phosphorescence like that sometimes seen in the sea, but a clearer form of light, soft but unclouded, as though some chemical reaction was causing a cold heat within an element of the rock.

The glow lighted shelving areas of instruments and inflotapes and old books preserved in gel covers. There were recognizable audiovisual units, and on previous visits Kim had found maps, charts and scrolls holding basic-element and isotopic tables. The Kirl had inherited a survival science to aid the development of the race from some source. And that race, splintered across many sea distances, with clan and tribal units hidden—who knew where?—from the roving Service, had its own ideas of leadership, government, and a loosely held society.

Toby Lee was back in the Adam taking care of the cryo. Not that their new associate needed much attention. Genright was keeping him under sedation. “Just for a little bit. Don’t want him to rev his motors too much with curiosity right now,” he had explained. “Gradual acceptance of being, you know. Before the big shock wave of memory and reality.” But the cryo was out of the pod, dressed in one of Kim’s zip suits, and tucked into a bunk. And Toby was sort of just around.

She was able, adequate to any emergency, and would do a job as well as any of them. But Kim just didn’t much like leaving her alone with the cryo. He didn’t much like leaving her anywhere, anytime, come to think of it. And that was not only silly, it was contrary to Service training and city conditioning.

However, something besides normal interest in the hydronauts was bothering The Kirl, and enough to make him want to talk—how did he say it?—about trouble together. It might be the revival of the cryo. It might be that time had just run out in their vague relationship, which was something between being prisoners and guests.

Maybe, thought Kim, The Kirl also felt that a need for action was upon them both, and for their own reasons. Be attentive, be cautious, be ever wary, and doubly so in strange situations. They were basic laws of the Service, and all of them knew it.

He liked old Mose, as he liked all of the Ocean People. He thought that they thought equally well of the hydronauts. Perhaps they did, but as individuals. What they represented was quite a different thing, and that was suspect, feared, and maybe hated. Well, maybe he didn’t like himself all that much or he wouldn’t have that slim, little rod of stun gun in his pocket, and Tuktu and Genright wouldn’t have two tiny pellets, each packing enough explosive to blow down a cliff, in theirs.

Anyhow, old Mose was pleased when Kim had suggested that they meet here. He had some of his elders with him. They lay comfortably outstretched and relaxed as rugs on the rock floor. They’d look like rugs too if it weren’t for their dark and dancing eyes and bristly whiskers; rugs with names out of the ancient Bible, courtesy of Genright.

Genright, who wore affection like a second skin, knew and greeted them all as he and Kim and Tuk had entered the cavern after rolling their ankles along the scree beach to reach it.

“Baruch, hello. And Cornelius, hello. And Amos, you old clam cracker, hello.”

They had nodded with dignity, yet pleased as children with their special, named recognition.

“Genright, hello. And hello, Dark Swimmer. And Whale’s Friend, hello.”

Their voices were flat and metallic like those of deaf persons, who could say but never hear the words they said. They were pitched low. Usually when Kirl talked to Kirl their voices ranged up into frequencies that could not be heard by human ears or, at best, were only sensed as the whine of insects. But, then, there were differences from human anatomy in Kirl throat and mouth structures. At least they spoke the common language, the normal heritage of their racial creation.

“We have decided not to kill you, young Forerunner,” said the Kirl leader. He fixed his great dark eyes on Kim’s face reflectively, and he spoke without haste but with soft clarity.

Tuktu and Genright rolled from their sprawls into upright positions on their knees. Kim remained cross-legged, erect as a resting yogi.

“We made the same decision concerning you and your people a long time ago,” said Kim.

The old Kirl nodded.

“We could have many times with strength and numbers, choosing to lose as many of us as need be,” he continued. “We have watched your people in the sea for many years, although you have only recently become aware of our presence. We know our history much of which is your own, which the Forerunners gave us to know. We are men in all but the form of men, and that difference is enough to set us apart from all but the very wisest of your people, young Forerunner.

“The wisest do not always rule. It may be that the time has not yet come for the wisest to rule. We know what happened to earth. It is our reason for being, the reason for our initial creation. And I know that wisdom does not rank first among the priorities of survival. It takes tougher, less worthy qualities, animal qualities, if you please, to save a race. Wisdom, being wise, waits and makes its own contributions as it may.

“I have watched you and I think you do not consider the Kirl as beasts, although you cannot help yourselves to do so in some measure. But your people will, even those who know why there are Kirl, especially those of your people who harvest the sea that supports you. You are part of your people. You serve them in the seas.

“You are a great problem. You and your boat and your weapons and now that Forerunner of the Forerunners you have brought back from the dead. You know of us and this place, and through you your people now know.

“What have you to say to us?”

Kim was silent a long moment, shaping his thoughts to reply, not wishing to increase the anxieties implicit in this breakthrough meeting. He liked the Kirl, but how to show it and still make clear his own problems and, worse, how to explain the hydronaut’s dilemma between direct orders from their superiors and their own situation in this time and place. The spoken truth could only offend and enrage the Kirl, although they were already certain of what that truth must be. How could he say, We are friends who come to destroy you, and still be friends.

“Baruch, suppose Moses told you to kill me. How would you do it?” asked Genright, as if he were asking the way to the lake.

“He’d bite off your flat nose first, and then shorten you some at the neck,” said Tuktu. “And I’d help him.”

“Come on, Baruch. You mean those big choppers of yours could glop right through my neck and take my head off?”

Kim, watching Moses, saw the corners of the Kirl’s deep-set eyes crinkle and an amused flicker in their liquid depths. The Kirl did not laugh often, but neither did they lack a sense of humor. And something like a suspicion of laughter rippled softly from behind the old leader’s whisker-spiked muzzle.

Baruch cocked his ears at the sound. He heaved his sinewy body to his feet and arched his back like a playful cat, then loped for the mouth of the cavern.

“You embarrassed him,” accused Tuktu.

“I did not. He just wants a minute to himself before he answers my question.”

Baruch did not take a minute. He was back in seconds, dragging a piece of driftwood log from the beach with his mouth, then sliding it across the stone floor and laying it at Genright’s feet.

The section of log was about three feet in length, four inches in diameter, speckled with rock sand and water soaked.

“Pick it up and hold it at the ends before you, young Sea Eel,” said Baruch.

“It’s heavy,” complained Genright. But still on his knees, he gripped the ends of the log and held it out as he was told.

The Kirl padded closer, darted his head in a sudden strike, and in the single flashing moment there was a glimpse of a wide-stretched maw and white fangs. The log parted in Genright’s hands, bitten cleanly in half.

“Some glop,” said Tuktu.

“Come here, Baruch,” said Genright, reaching out and grasping the Kirl at the scruff of the neck. “I’m glad we’re buddies. Let me help you get the splinters out of those fine big choppers. I might want to you to help me someday. There’s this mean white shark that hangs out around Point Loma…”

“I’d be glad to, Genright,” said Baruch. “Friends should always help each other, just as we aged should instruct youth. What can you do for me should I need assistance?”

“Oh, no,” said Tuktu.

“No,” snapped Kim, “and that’s an order.”

“Well, I was only going to show him,” said Genright, rising to his feet and shrugging his shoulders plaintively.

“I know,” snapped Kim.

“But I don’t,” said Moses calmly. “And as this is a meeting of high diplomacy, you wouldn’t want to offend me by not letting me see what Genright has to offer.”

“Well, sir, it’s like this…” said Kim.

“I know what it’s like, young Forerunner. You’re afraid Genright’s going to do something that will indicate the strength of your weaponry as against Baruch’s teeth. And that will make the Kirl angry before you’ve had a chance to say what you were going to say, and maybe cause all sorts of trouble between us.”

“Something like that, sir,” admitted Kim thoughtfully. “You’re having a nice time, I gather.”

“I must admit, Kim, that somehow I and my associates are suddenly a lot easier in our minds about you all, but I would find it difficult to explain why exactly.”

“Order rescinded, Warden Selsor,” said Kim evenly. “Go play with your pill.”

“Oh, no,” moaned Tuktu. “But then again, yes.” He brightened. “Watch out for passing swimmers or spectators.”

Genright grinned. “Gentlemen and Baruch, my friend, shall we step outside for a few moments while I show Baruch what I can do to help him should he require assistance against any who would annoy him.” He bowed and waved a directional arm toward the lake.

They trooped behind him like a delegation, with sort of a measured tread, as though they were going to some memorial service. Kim had the distinct impression that the Kirl were greatly amused and that The Kirl, old Moses, was courteously holding back a vast pleasure. He felt pretty springy himself as he heard Tuktu mutter behind him.

“Some big-time meeting, all right, with that clown aboard.”

They paused on the shale-rubble beach and looked out over the lake, sun-washed and ripple-rinsed before them. Two great spires of rock jutted from the surface about a hundred and fifty feet offshore like giant fingers admonishing the blue sky.

In the distance rose the ring of peaks bunched along the horizon like sports fans in a monstrous arena so closely packed that their wooded shoulders overlapped.

Genright pointed to the rock spires in the lake. “You don’t need them, do you, Mose?” he asked. He rammed a slim hand into his zip-suit pocket as he spoke and extracted a tiny pebble-sized ball.

“You may have them, Genright,” answered The Kirl.

Genright nodded politely. “You see this dandy little pellet, Baruch?”

“I do, Whale’s Friend and mine.”

“Well, I scratch it a lick to sort of stir up its innards, and then I buzz it out to those rocks like so….”

Genright pumped, wind-milled a long, lean arm, and made the throw.

The pellet arced, was lost momentarily in the sun glare, and spatted against the larger of the two spires.

There was a searing white flare of light, a hole in the sky where the rock towers had been, and a single flat whiplash of sound so intense it pained the ears. The beach trembled beneath them, and that single incredible crack of sound splintered into a volley of echoes from the far shores of the lake before climbing the ringed hills into silence.

The spires were gone. The lake lay empty before them.

The Kirl leader shrilled a spate of words at his associates, who split up and loped off in several directions with awkward speed.

“Just to calm down some of our people in case they were overly disturbed,” he explained to Kim.

“Genright, Tuk, suggest you drop in on Toby as well,” said Kim. “That burst might have had some effect on the cryo.”

“And now, young Forerunner, I think we might talk together.”

Once more in the cavern Kim stared at The Kirl.

“That was silly, you know, sir,” he said. “You are not silly. You wanted it. Why?”

“You will be a great leader someday, young Forerunner. You look beneath the appearance of things. You must know that a leader leads only when he knows his people are ready to follow, especially in matters of importance. I had to convince a lot of the Kirl that they were ready to follow me to truce, friendship, and cooperation with certain young trespassers. Baruch, for instance, he and his teeth are inseparable, you know. He’s very proud of them, but he’s likely to overestimate their value.

“That’s why Genright’s demonstration was not silly. And you needn’t feel uneasy about it. How do you know that I don’t want you to think that your own forms of teeth are enough to conquer the Kirl, for instance?”

“We don’t need our teeth,” grinned Kim. “We could overrun you with numbers, choosing to lose as many of us as need be.”

“Young Forerunner, it is possible that you may have a future in the society you serve. And it is that society I fear, not you or your friends.” The Kirl chief paused and waggled his bristles. “Overrun us, indeed. But, then, I said it first, didn’t I?”

“You did, sir.”

“I was being a leader, you know.”

“I think you are a wise one, sir.”

“Well, the Kirl have some problems, and I hope you have lots of great teeth, because I would like to use some of them to solve a few of our more pressing ones.”

“I think we can work together,” said Kim.

“It would be much better, and friendlier, in case you think I am overlooking the fact that Genright just happened to have that explosive device in his pocket. What were you and Tuktu carrying?”

“Teeth, sir. But you mentioned problems?”

“Well, there are a few. Perhaps the tunnel first.”

“We were thinking about blowing it open or cutting it open again,” said Kim frankly.

“Were you, then? I thought you might be. But you ought to know that while we can do without it if need be, it is a prime source of our food. It’s a giant sluice for plankters of all types, which keep the lake rich. It’s a funnel for all sorts of anadromous fishes—trout, herring types, salmon, and even others better known to warmer waters.”

Old Moses’ eyes flickered. “You noticed how warm that water gets out there sometimes?”

“Does it have to steam and then explode too?” asked Kim dryly.

“Doesn’t happen often but it is worrisome, especially when it happens over a wide area of sea.”

“Worrisome enough for you to take the Kirl and go elsewhere?”

“The thought has occurred. But about the tunnel, it’s also our only gateway large enough for Genright’s whale to bring guests home to meals. Our meals, I might add. It also does much to keep the lake from freezing.

“You’ve noticed that we get sun almost to midnight at this season? Well, in a few months there will be no sun at all. All the land is ice-locked or deep in snow. A lake that doesn’t freeze is a comfort. Makes travel easier for us swimmers too…”

“We were thinking about exploring the lake rather thoroughly,” said Kim.

“With your permission, of course, sir.”

“Of course, or else overrun us with your numbers. But, about the tunnel again. It makes what you might call group movements easier. Those volcanically warmed waters make lovely salt shallows in the bays outside, all full of fine kelp beds and shellfish and sea urchins. Great schoolhouses for the young and mommas with children. And all of those bay shallows have narrow access channels to the cold oceans beyond, which makes them easy to defend against predators.

“The Kirl can fight, you know, and most efficiently.”

“Oh, please, Moses.”

“Now, as I said, there are other tunnel junctures with the sea, but they are small, and sort of a which-way network of conduits. We use them…”

“Do you ever go overland to reach the sea?”

The Kirl was thoughtful.

“One thing at a time,” he said. When do you think you’d like to see what you can do about the tunnel?”

Kim was thoughtful.

“I have this problem with the Sleeper,” he said. “I have many problems, but the Sleeper is first, and he has a bearing on the matter of the tunnel.

“The dead were best left dead,” said the Kirl flatly.

“Perhaps, but we have given him life, and now we must help him adjust to it, which is a matter of education if he can accept what he must know.”

“And if he cannot?”

“We have instructions. But you have the educational materials the Forerunners gave you…” Kim waved an encompassing arm through the cavern. “Would you allow him instruction from your libraries and labs?”

“You would be his teachers?”

“With you, if you want to select that which he should know. Or with any of your people who teach.”

“I am not easy about this.”

“It would help us to know what he knows much sooner,” said Kim persuasively. “And particularly about the tunnel. He came from there. Many of his people are still there.” Kim hesitated.

“Something?” asked The Kirl.

“An idea only,” admitted Kim. “I think he may have helped build that tunnel.”

“I have an idea too, and that is, you think it would be a good thing to expose him to the Kirl as The Kirl, so he may see what a truly different world he has joined.”

“Hadn’t thought all that far,” said Kim. “But where are all the Kirl young and their mommas you mentioned? All I see hanging around us are Baruchs and Goliaths and Joshuas and Marks and Lukes and all those pals of Genright’s. Are there mommas among them I didn’t notice?”

“Why do you jump from one idea to another like a sea flea?” asked The Kirl and continued.

“Our mommas are elsewhere in the lake. The crowds you see around here are sort of special forces, the numbers to overwhelm you. And you’ll know the mommas when you see them…”

Moses reflected. “You can tell most of them by their bloody noses during this nice weather.”

“What?”

“The otter side of our family, no pun, does quite a bit of our mating about now. A lot of the mommas and many of the younger females don’t feel like mating particularly. Our males hold them in line, as it were, by biting them, sort of gripping them, you know, by the nose. It’s a form of leadership, you might say.”

“Teeth again,” grinned Kim.

“We’ll help you with the Sleeper. You examine the tunnel, although it may be gone for good, depending upon how much damage the earth shocks did.

“And one other thing. If you can manage to demonstrate the power of your teeth in a friendly manner…leave it up to you…show off a little bit. But with care, with care…”

“Yes, sir.”

“And one other thing, young Forerunner, I know that you are under the orders of your people, and that you must contact your leaders. But with care, with care…And, yes, the Kirl have traveled overland upon occasion.”

“You certainly jump around from one idea to another like a sea flea, sir,” said Kim.

Chapter One	Chapter Two	Chapter Four	Chapter Five	Chapter Six
Chapter Seven	Chapter Eight	Chapter Nine	Chapter Ten	Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve	Chapter Thirteen	Chapter Fourteen	Chapter Fifteen

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