The Silence of Gom Page 5

  "Why, if you can order them around so easily?"

  "Easy!" Marshall laughed. "Betty and I are no suggestors after all. We couldn't have done it without our share of luck." But he quickly became serious again. "No, don't take it for granted that we've nothing to fear from the Bios. If we happen to run into a formation that's big enough—say 50 creatures—then we won't be able to accomplish much with telepathy."

  Bell shook his head dubiously. "I don't believe the Aras have sent over more than this one group."

  "Neither do I but we don't know for sure."

  Bell admitted it and quickly spurred them on with: "Now let's go looking for the vacuum chamber!

  Where do you suppose it is?"

  Marshall pointed into the tunnel. "Somewhere out there! You must have noticed this corridor is higher and, wider than the first one we saw. It probably branches out farther back and is connected with other branches which will have to be searched."

  They crawled out into the tunnel in pairs. Ras Tschubai and Tako Kakuta worked hard, pushing the two-headed mutant ahead. After three-quarter hours they indeed reached the entrance to a lower tunnel on the left and another 300 feet ahead their lamps revealed a second branch.

  "O.K., Marshall! So far your theory is correct," Bell acknowledged.

  Marshall muttered: "Of course!" and then added. "By the way... something else occurred to me."

  "What's that?"

  "How do you figure the Bios got here from Laros? On foot?"

  Bell exhaled audibly. "Oh yes," he admitted. "What a brainstorm! But first we must have a chance to get something in our stomachs, then we can look for the spaceship on which the Bios must have arrived—if it's still around."

  Marshall smiled in bemusement. He knelt in front of the entrance to the side tunnel and Bell saw him raising his thermo-beamer and firing a 5-second-long shot against one of its walls.

  Bell crawled over to him and stared at the target. Soon a gentle but clearly noticeable draft of air came blowing in from the branch corridor into the main tunnel.

  "You see," Marshall explained, "this is the wrong corridor. If the vacuum chamber were at the other end, the wind would blow in the opposite direction."

  Bell gaped at him with open mouth and big eyes. "If you keep this up," he snapped, "I'll let you have my job as soon as we get back to the Titan."

  • • •

  Marshall's method eliminated the necessity of searching the full length of. each of the side corridors they found afterwards. It was a surefire method, as everybody readily admitted. Within a distance of half a mile a total of 15 shafts ended in the main tunnel. The 12th shaft was the one Marshall was looking for. After he fired his test shot into the wall they distinctly noticed an air current flowing into the branch.

  They crawled into the shaft and it didn't take long till they reached an airtight obstacle in their path—a curtain of shiny dark-brown Goms barring their way.

  Bell, who followed closely behind Marshall, raised his weapon to remove the barrier but Marshall pushed his arm down to the floor. "Not this way, please!" he urged. "We'll have to apply a different approach if we want to use the vacuum chamber."

  He drew his own weapon and held it against the wall. Before he pulled the trigger he warned: "Be ready! We may have to slip through like weasels."

  Bell understood what he meant. When Marshall went to work on the wall with his concentrated energy-ray, Bell had already grabbed Goratschin by the sleeve of his half-decomposed spacesuit and when the Gom curtain lifted to let the developing heat escape into the side of the shaft, which was under lower air pressure, he shoved Ivan's heavy body so forcefully that it skidded several feet into the shaft.

  As Marshall had anticipated, the curtain was lifted for only a few seconds. Then it dropped again and sealed the two sides of the shaft hermetically from each other. But the short interval was long enough for Bell's crew. They labored mightily under the strain imposed on them by the excessive gravity and managed to get in under the curtain. A few feet farther on there was another curtain, also consisting of living Goms like the preceding one. Marshall made it rise in the same manner.

  Bell carefully watched the manometer on his wrist. He determined that the air pressure was a few atmospheres lower behind each of the 5 curtains they encountered. In the 5th section the pressure amounted to only 2.5 atmospheres. This was still too high to take off their spacesuits but it was only one-tenth of the normal pressure prevailing on Gom.

  Behind the last curtain the shaft continued, winding like a snake. The Goms had applied the simplest and most sensible method of preventing the abrupt pressure drop of the air current from causing any damage: it was forced to meander along the shaft and thereby to lose its velocity.

  Almost two hours elapsed before another Gom curtain came in sight behind a turn of the shaft. It appeared to be far more solid than those they had passed through before and when Bell hit it with his fist he found that the Goms had no intention of yielding like rubber as before but reacted as if it were a massive concrete wall.

  "Little wonder," Marshall pointed out, "they're probably closing off a large vacuum chamber behind and it must withstand considerable pressure."

  Marshall's proven method brought results here too. A short bombardment caused the curtain to slide up and to suck the heated air into the chamber. Bell and his little band succeeded in squeezing into the chamber without difficulties before the temperature was equalized—having already gained some experience.

  Only Marshall remained outside.

  Bell checked his manometer, which registered 0.05 atmospheres. The elastic spacesuits, which under the enormous pressure had closely fitted their bodies over a thin layer of air, were now blown up like grotesque balloons.

  "Five-hundredths!" Bell called to the waiting Marshall. "We need 20 times as much!"

  Under Marshall's searing raygun the Gom curtain went up again and permitted a hissing stream of air to enter. Bell observed that his manometer moved up from 0.05 to 0.6 atmospheres. "Another small dose," he requested of Marshall.

  Marshall complied and ducked under the curtain going up for the third time. He glanced at his own manometer and saw that his last shot had been sufficient to raise the pressure inside the chamber to 0.97 atmospheres.

  The probing light of their helmet-lamps revealed that the chamber was not as large as they had imagined. It had a circular outline—the Goms seemed to have a preference for round buildings—with a diameter of 50 feet and 60 feet high.

  The walls were not bare as in the air-filled reservoir where they had been attacked by the Bios. Three-quarters of the surface was covered with dark-brown Goms. Marshall stated unabashedly: "Just about as I pictured it. The Goms don't have an infinite number of vacuum chambers. When one of them gets partially filled with air, they're compelled to pump it out in time. They don't have mechanical means as we've already observed. How else can they remove the air unless they use a chemical reaction—or rather a series of reactions—which consumes the air?"

  Bell pondered. "Makes sense. And the Goms perform these reactions themselves?"

  "Doubtlessly. They drape themselves like curtains in the passages—why shouldn't they also be able to initiate and regulate chemical reactions with their own bodies? Let's wait a little; according to my theory the pressure should decrease in here is due time—probably slowly but steadily."

  Bell was the first to carefully strip off his suit. He realized that the Gom atmosphere was nearly identical with that on Earth but he didn't know the composition of the air inside the subterranean system.

  He breathed slowly and looked around. "It stinks," the others heard him announce, "but it's breathable!"

  They hastily peeled off their spacesuits and put their helmets down in such a way that the lamps were directed against the walls, creating some indirect lighting. It really smelled. An unfamiliar unpleasant odor permeated the air, probably due to the excretions of the Goms' bodies.

  The meal they gulped down was anyth
ing but sumptuous. It mainly consisted of concentrated food, preparations which alleviated their hunger and thirst and supplied their bodies' requirements for two weeks. As dessert Bell passed around tidbits of chocolate from a bar he had found in his spacesuit.

  They remained in the chamber as long as Bell thought they could afford to linger. They enjoyed the feeling of lying in fairly fresh. air without their restricting spacesuits, the more so since they no longer found the odor given off by the Goms so offensive.

  In the course of the 3 hours during which they lazily lolled on the floor gazing into the light of their helmet lamps, the pressure in the chamber dropped from its original level down to 0.75 atmospheres. The Goms clinging to the walls became covered with a grey-brown coating which crackled and fell piecemeal to the floor from time to time. Thus the pressure-reducing reaction indeed took place on the body surface of the strange creatures.

  "One has to admire Nature that produces such beings," Marshall said thoughtfully. "In their own way they're as perfect as humans."

  Marshall sat up. "Let's recapitulate what we already know about the Goms. First, as an individual being it's completely harmless. It doesn't possess tools and therefore no weapons either. It is only semi-intelligent as long as it isn't directed by someone else."

  "Second: the joining of several Goms into a—let's call it a Super-Gom—effects a summation of their intelligence and creates a being that is not only capable of independent thought but also possesses without a doubt parapsychological powers. Remember, for instance, what a strong telekinetic ability it must have required to force our Gazelle to land from thousands of miles."

  "Third: the logic governing the Super-Gom is very alien to the human mind. Therefore the Super-Gom doesn't follow the ethics of mankind. Thus we mustn't expect, for instance, that they're grateful for a favor rendered to them in the human fashion. Neither can we assume that they'll always remain hostile after we've inflicted damage on them."

  "Fourth: the Super-Gom is able to communicate with other beings whose brains resemble our own; I mean the Bios. By this I don't mean to compare ourselves with them but the fact remains that what little brain they've got is similar to the brain of the Aras and consequently functions in some respects like the human brain. So the possibility must exist that we can communicate with the Goms and it's up to us to find a way."

  Bell had listened attentively. "And what do you hope to accomplish if you find it?" he inquired.

  Marshall raised his shoulders. "First of all, we want to get out of here. I'd very much prefer it if we could manage to do this without burning dozens of holes in the walls. For this purpose we need the assistance of the Goms. And furthermore it's quite possible that the Goms have a good idea how we can leave this hellish planet the quickest way. If we're right in assuming that the Aras get their basic organic material from the Goms, then they must send spaceships to Gom. If we're lucky one of their ships will be due during the next few days and we can capture it from the Aras... provided the Bios have already returned or in the event we can't detect their vehicles."

  Bell gave it some thought. "It's alright with me," he finally said. "Do you really think you can make contact with the Goms?"

  "I'll certainly try," Marshall responded.

  "Where do you suppose this Super-Gom, as you call it, is located? We all agree that this whole system is directed by such a conglomeration of Goms, don't we?" Bell asked.

  "I'm quite sure of it but I don't know how many Goms constitute a Super-Gom. Two or three would certainly not be enough. But couldn't those we've seen in the circular rooms down below be a Super-Gom? It must have contained at least 10,000 individual creatures."

  "Possibly," Bell agreed. "But it really doesn't matter. You better try to make your idea work!"

  Marshall looked at Betty, who responded to his glance and then turned away to avoid being disturbed in her concentration by the sight of her fellow sufferers. Marshall did the same and also moved closer to Betty to have better contact for their shared endeavor.

  The task was far from easy. Marshall was firmly convinced that the Goms were no more in a position to understand human thoughts than the Terranians were to decipher their thought-impulses. It was therefore impractical to hope that the Goms could guess his intentions and establish contact with him of their own volition.

  He would have to call them and he had to do it in the same manner as the Goms had called the Bios. Yet it was most difficult for a human to formulate a thought in a prescribed but unaccustomed genre. It is already difficult for the vocal organs to form foreign sounds and it's virtually impossible to think alien thoughts.

  Nevertheless Marshall made a determined effort, thinking: I'm calling you!

  The Super-Gom failed to answer. Marshall kept calling 10 times at regular intervals and after the 10th trial he got the feeling—that a far distant thought was trying to reach him. He expressed his thought in a slightly different form and emitted it for the 11th time. The remote thought answered again, this time a little clearer than before. Marshall expressed his message in a variety of ways and it seemed to have a favorable effect as the response was getting more lucid all the time.

  I'm here. What do you want stranger? Marshall received.

  Betty had understood the same response and looked hopefully at Marshall.

  We were forced to hurt you because we got lost in these tunnels, Marshall thought. We'd be happy if we could avoid any harm to you. Can't you show us the way out?

  The answer came promptly. Yes, unless I succeed in killing you.

  The illogical reply took Marshall aback and he hesitated for awhile till he found the right modulation again. Why do you want to kill us? Our death will do you no good—on the contrary, we'll defend ourselves and destroy your installations.

  You can't do that, they're much too big. You're a foreign body in our midst and I'm trying to eliminate you because I can't take any risks.

  You won't take a risk if you don't kill us. We've only one desire: to leave this place and your planet.

  The reply conveyed the curiosity of the Super-Gom to Marshall: Where do you come from?

  From a far land. Marshall tried to evade the question. We wouldn't have come to Gom if you hadn't forced us to land here.

  Yes. The Aras have demanded it.

  The Aras? Are they friends of yours?

  I'm working with them, came the diplomatic answer. I supply the organic substance and they build the subterranean system for me which enables me to produce a greater amount of the organic substance.

  Marshall sensed a faint undertone of disaffection ringing through the thought. Evidently the relationship between the Goms and the Aras was not ideal. Therefore Marshall stated frankly: The Aras hate us. They plan to attack our home world and we're trying to protect ourselves.

  The Goms listened with great interest and countered: Will you be able to do this?

  We certainly hope so.

  Are you going to destroy the Aras? The question was loaded with speculation.

  Perhaps we won't destroy them but we'll drive them from their base on Laros, Marshall contended.

  A period of silence followed and Marshall believed he could feel a wave of satisfaction coming from the Goms. He took this as a confirmation that he was right about his assumption concerning the relations between the Aras and the Goms and he decided to take advantage of the auspicious circumstances. Three of my friends, he cautiously intimated,are still in your custody. I'm sure they'll be of no value to you. Please return them to us!

  He failed to get an answer.

  Marshall repeated his plea but the Goms remained mute. He considered requesting a third time when the Goms sent a message, completely ignoring the inquiry about his friends. I'll show you the way. You can leave the network if you follow it. I'm going to inform my—here followed an expression which could have meant something like brothers or friends; in any case he obviously referred to other units of Goms—so that they'll not molest you. Perhaps they can even gi
ve you advice as to how you can leave our planet.

  Marshall decided to ask no further questions concerning the whereabouts of Ishibashi, Yokida and Sengu. Apparently the Goms wouldn't hear of it and for the time being it was more important that they found their way back to the surface than to liberate the 3 prisoners. Therefore Marshall simply said:

  Thank you!

  But as he had already anticipated, the Goms didn't know what the expression implied. The world of the Goms was based to a much greater degree on teleological principles than the human philosophy of life. Concepts like gratitude, love, hate and anger were unknown to them.

  The Goms gave Marshall a description of the way out for his mates and promised that the valve curtains would be operated in the desired direction. Marshall repeated the instructions thought-for-thought and thereby made sure that he avoided errors.

  Then the connection broke off. There were no good-byes. The Goms simply noted that Marshall had understood their description and terminated the communication.

  Marshall was exhausted by the thought exchange. His head hurt from the extraordinary effort. He turned around on his back and lay still for some time before he gave his report to Bell.

  Bell saved his commentary. He slapped Marshall on the shoulder and looked at him appreciatively. That was all. Bell told everybody to put on the spacesuits. Time was running out. The pressure in the chamber had dropped to 0.6 atmospheres and breathing had become as difficult as on the highest mountaintops.

  The Goms seemed to know exactly when the group started to move. The curtain separating the chamber from the shaft began to rise simultaneously and equalized the pressure differential between the chamber and the adjacent section of the shaft.

  The other valve curtains reacted in the same manner as soon as Bell's people approached. They proceeded without incident.

  They reached the more than 6-foot-high main corridor in a relatively short time. From there they went back to one of the branches through which Bell's team had passed before. The branch ran horizontally for awhile and then began to rise. Four hours after Marshall had concluded his memorable discussion with the Goms the red circle of light shed by the sun Gonom on the edge of the twilight zone appeared in the distance.