"I don't believe you. You've made a mistake." Friday Indigo nodded toward the cup in Bony's hand. "That's water. What else could it be?"
"I don't know." Bony sniffed at the cup. "I agree, it smells like water and it looks like water. But it's fifteen percent denser than the drinking water we have on board."
"You're missing the obvious, Rombelle. As usual. Don't you see what this is? It's brine—salt water. If you had ever been on Earth, as I have, you would know."
"I have been on Earth." Bony cursed to himself. In his irritation with Friday Indigo he was doing what he never did: giving details of his own background.
"Then even you should have heard of the Dead Sea." Friday Indigo took the cup from Bony's hand. "The Dead Sea has so much salt in it, a person can't sink. If you step into it, you just bob around on the surface with your shoulders out of the water."
"I know that, sir." Bony made a decision. He might be self-taught, but he had a near-perfect memory and he had taught himself a lot. If they were all going to die in the Geyser Swirl, he wouldn't be talked down to any more by a nitwit like Indigo. "The Dead Sea is close to a quarter salts by weight. Mainly sodium chloride, magnesium chloride, and calcium chloride. Its density is twenty percent higher than ordinary water, even more than what we have here."
"So this is obviously somewhere between ordinary seawater on Earth, and the Dead Sea."
"No. The taste of water so full of salts is reported to be absolutely disgusting by anyone who has ever sampled it. This is a bit salty, but quite drinkable. Try it for yourself."
Friday Indigo did not seem keen on the idea, but he cautiously raised the cup and took a minute sip. "It tastes like water. Ordinary water, salt and carbonated."
"That's right. Although I'm not sure the dissolved gas is carbon dioxide."
"And still you say it isn't water? What that tells me, Rombelle, is that you don't know what you're talking about. And while you stand here and debate the mysterious properties of perfectly ordinary water, let me remind you that we remain stuck at the bottom of the sea. I don't want a discussion. I want to take the Mood Indigo back into space. So get to work." Indigo put his hand on Liddy Morse's arm as she seemed ready to follow Bony toward the lower level of the ship. "Not you, Liddy. It's been a tense few hours, and I think I've earned a little rest and recreation. Let's go."
Liddy, to Bony's annoyance, bowed her head submissively. He descended the ladder alone, heading for the tiny room that served as his combined study and workshop. On the way he stopped at the galley and grabbed a double handful of candy bars. He wasn't sure that he would be able to work while Friday Indigo cavorted with Liddy above his head, but these might help.
In the study he stuffed a whole candy bar into his mouth and pulled up data on the airlocks of the Mood Indigo. There were three of them, one at the front end of the ship and two at the rear. All of them presented problems. The forward one faced vertically upward, while the other two might have been damaged on impact with the seabed. He would have to make an inspection, but before that he wanted to know if they could be used as sea-locks, even in principle.
He called up detailed schematics. It must be nice to be rich. Friday Indigo had bought a ship equipped with the best of everything, hardware and software. On the other hand, most of the test equipment had never been taken from its protective covers, and he could see from their access history that he was the first person to use these data routines.
Bony studied the airlock geometry and mechanics and gradually lost himself in his task. The first part would be easy. You put on an ordinary space-suit and moved into an airlock. You closed the inner hatch, exactly as usual. Then you opened the outer hatch. Instead of air gushing out into vacuum, water came in. Depending on the airlock position and your own density, you either floated into the sea or you walked out onto the seabed.
And then did what? Bony examined the characteristics of the suits. The air supply and air circulation were self-contained and would operate exactly as in space. The main question was thermal balance. The suit had to lose the heat generated internally by its occupant. That ought to be easier in water than in space, because you could lose heat by conduction and convection as well as by radiation.
Easier in water. In spite of anything that Friday Indigo might say, it was not ordinary water. So what was it? Bony became aware of an idea that had been wandering around the fringes of his consciousness. He called for access to a completely different data base, and for on-line assistance. The next ten minutes flashed by as he and the ship's computer looked up basic physical constants and did calculations.
At the end of that time Bony smacked his hand on the desk top. Yes! He still had to perform a couple of tests, but the ship carried a small mass spectrograph for use in calibrating the fusion drive, and that should be all he needed.
He had been right; and so, oddly enough, had Friday Indigo. Bony decided he didn't want to think about Friday. He helped himself to another candy bar and forced himself back to his main task.
So you were in your suit, wandering around in the sea outside the ship. You were making engineering modifications designed to allow you to use the auxiliary thrustors underwater—another design task to be solved—but you couldn't stay outside too long. You had to come back in through the airlock to replenish your suit supplies. Normally, that was straightforward. You simply entered the lock, closed the outer hatch, and flooded the lock with air to replace the hard vacuum of space.
But it would not be a vacuum in the lock. It would be at least partly water, the water that entered when you opened the hatch to go outside. Therefore, you could not close the outer hatch when you flooded the lock with air. You had to leave the hatch open. The hatch could not be at the top of the lock, either, otherwise the air would just bubble up toward the surface and be lost. The hatch must be at the bottom of the lock, so new-pumped air would force water out. When all the water had gone, you could at last remove your suit, open the inner hatch, and enter the ship.
Bony turned to the lock configurations. Given the present orientation of the Mood Indigo . . . forward lock, outer hatch faced upward, no good . . . aft lock Number One, outer hatch facing upward, no good. Aft lock Number Two, outer hatch facing downward—and it was slightly higher, which ought to mean it was clear of the sea-bed.
Bony leaned back in triumph and was shocked to see Liddy Morse standing in front of him. He had been so engrossed in his work that he hadn't heard her come in.
If she was here, it meant that she and Indigo . . . "Liddy. Are you all right?"
"Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?"
"You and Indigo. I thought—did he—did the two of you—"
"He's asleep. Stop worrying. He's not my favorite person, but I owe him something. He did buy out my contract, you know. You're not from Earth, so you can't imagine what life is like in the Gallimaufries. Believe me, I've had to put up with a lot worse than Friday Indigo." She was studying him. "You don't like to hear about him, do you?"
"Not especially."
"Then let's not talk about him. Tell me what you were doing before you knew I was here. You looked so happy and pleased with yourself."
"I was working. Deciding how to get outside and come back inside. Liddy, I've figured out what's outside! What the liquid is."
"Who was right, you or Indigo?"
"Both of us."
"You can't both be right."
"We are. That's what's so strange. Do you know what hydrogen is?"
"Of course I do."
"But did you know that it can come in two forms? One of them is an atom where the nucleus is a proton, and there's one electron in orbit around it. That's the common form. But you can also have a form called deuterium, which has a nucleus, a deuteron, with one proton and one neutron. You still have one electron, so the chemical properties of deuterium are the same as hydrogen."
"So?"
"So you can make a molecule, a water molecule, with two atoms of hydrogen and one atom of oxygen. Or you can, just as well, make a kind of water molecule with two atoms of deuterium and one atom of oxygen. It's been known for centuries, it's called deuterium oxide, or heavy water—and it's about eleven percent more dense than ordinary water. It can be used just like ordinary water. You can bathe in it, you can cook with it. I'm pretty sure you can drink it, at least some, and not notice a difference. That's what we have outside the ship. We are sitting at the bottom of an ocean, but it's a heavy water ocean."
"Are you sure of this?"
"Sure as I can be until I do the final tests of molecular weight. But assuming I'm right, it's good news. We can wander around outside in our suits and be quite safe. If we run low on water, we can even drink some. I suspect there are differences in diffusivity rates from ordinary water, and that could have long-term fatal effects, but . . ."
She was laughing at him. Bony stopped talking. "I'm sorry. I get carried away. I'm boring you, aren't I?"
"Of course you're not. I get such a kick out of watching you when an idea catches fire. You light up like a little kid."
"Sure. Thanks."
"Oh, stop that." Liddy pulled out the little chair on the other side of the desk and squeezed onto it. "Can't you recognize a compliment when you hear one? Now what are you doing?"
What Bony was doing, not very successfully, was crumple up candy wrappers and try to count them at the same time. He was amazed at their number. "I tend to eat when I'm working."
"Then you must have been absolutely slaving. And I interrupted you. I'll go away."
"No. You can help me. If you don't mind."
"I can't do that stuff to save my life." Liddy's wave took in the display of schematics, the computer dialog, and Bony's random notes on pressures and volumes.
"I don't mean calculations. I need practical help. Now we know what's out there, I'm ready to consider an EVA—a trip outside the ship. To do that, we have to make one of the airlocks work, underwater. I think I know how, but it's a two person job. Are you free?"
"I think so." Liddy caught Bony's unconscious glance upward. "Don't worry, he'll snore for at least another hour. He always does afterwards."
"I don't believe it."
"Indigo sleeps a lot."
"I mean, I don't understand how he's able to sleep now. We're lost on the sea-bed of an unknown planet when we ought to be in open space. We're in a ship never designed for anything but space operations. We have no idea how we came here, or if we'll ever be able to get away. And he's asleep. How can anybody sleep at a time like this?"
"You really don't know, do you?" Liddy, head to one side, was studying Bony. "I can tell you've never been rich. Neither have I, but I've been around wealthy people. Things are different when you're rich. Indigo bought me, you know."
"That's terrible." Bony said the words automatically, but he was in some ways relieved. At least Liddy wasn't Friday Indigo's mate by choice.
"Being bought is much worse the first time it happens. But that's not my point. My point is, Indigo bought you, too."
"Never. I'm a free man."
"Then what are you doing, working while he's sleeping? What are you doing here at all, lost in the Geyser Swirl?"
Bony had a good answer to the last question, but he was not willing to give it. He stood up. "Come on. Let's go and work on the airlock while he's still asleep."
"You're trying to change the subject." Liddy followed him down the ladder. "Let me explain something to you. When you're born rich, like Friday Indigo, you don't do things. You buy things. And those things include more than material objects. You buy people. You buy services. You buy reassurance. Friday Indigo is using his money now to buy peace of mind. He bought your services, so he expects you to save the ship and him and find a way home. Why shouldn't he sleep easy?"
"He's crazy." Bony was in the airlock, moving to one side of the small compartment so that Liddy could join him. There was barely space for two people. "I don't even know if we can get outside this ship."
"Maybe he is crazy. But you know what?" Liddy stopped right in front of him, faces six inches apart and eye to eye. "I agree with him. I expect you to save me, too."
Bony felt a curious heat and pressure in his belly, as though the inside was being cooked in a microwave oven at high setting. He stepped hurriedly backward, and a faucet for the delivery of air to the lock poked him hard in the small of his back. He exclaimed in pain.
Liddy laughed. "What are you doing? I'm not infectious."
"If Indigo comes down here, and sees us together like this . . ."
"Like what? You haven't touched me. And he was the one who told me to go with you and try to be useful for a change."
"He's an absolute bastard."
"Everything's relative. I saw a lot worse when I was growing up."
"Where was that?" Bony turned away, partly to study the hatch design and partly to escape Liddy's eyes. "I know you said you lived down on Earth."
"I did, but I'm not sure it would mean anything to you. Did you ever hear of a place called the Shambles?"
Bony couldn't help staring at her. "No."
"Yes, you did." She cocked her head to one side. "Your face gives you away. Why won't you tell me the truth?"
"I've heard bad things about the Shambles. It's supposed to be the worst of the Terran basement warrens."
"It's like most places, some parts better than others. I was lucky. I was educated at one of the better schools."
"Which one was that?" Bony knew more about the Shambles than he was willing to admit, and schools were not what came first to mind.
"The Leah Rainbow Academy for the Daughters of Gentlefolk."
"My God." It didn't need his face to give him away this time, the words popped right out.
"Uh-oh." Liddy grimaced. "You've heard of that, too. Then I've said too much. I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"I had no idea, not one in a million off-Earthers has heard of it."
"I have, because—" Bony was on the point of telling the truth, but he caught himself just in time "—because I've read a lot about Earth."
"That's even more peculiar. I didn't think anybody wrote about the Academy. Customers normally came through a personal recommendation."
"How did you come to be living there? At the Leah Rainbow Academy, I mean." Bony sank down on his knees, studying the geometry of the lock. The internal air pressure was the same as in the rest of the ship, one standard atmosphere. The hatch was facing almost directly downward. When they closed the inner hatch, sealing themselves off from the ship, and opened the outer hatch just a crack, one of two things would happen. If the outside water pressure was less than the internal air pressure, some air would bubble out. If the outside pressure was greater, water would enter until the pressures equalized.
Were there any other possibilities? Well, there was always the improbable case where the inside and outside pressures were exactly equal, but chances were strongly against that. And there was the case where Bony had forgotten to take account of some crucial variable, and as the hatch was cracked open something totally unforeseen happened.
He was willing to take that risk. But he didn't see why Liddy should be exposed to it, too. He stood up, suddenly aware that he had asked her a question whose answer he was very much interested in hearing; but he had no idea of how she had replied.
"I'm sorry. You were saying?"
"I wasn't. I can tell when somebody isn't listening." Liddy sounded more amused than annoyed. "I thought I was here to help? All I've done so far is stand around."
"You can help right now. You go back in the ship and stand next to the inner hatch. I'm going to stay here, close the inner hatch, and then open the outer one."
"Shouldn't you put a suit on? Suppose the fizziness in the water is something poisonous?"
"The tests say that's it's just oxygen, and lots of it. But I'm going to wear a suit anyway. And so are you."
"Why do I need a suit, if I'm going to stay in the ship?"
"In case you have to do a rescue operation. We will be in radio communication, and I will make sure I keep talking. If I stop, or if I start to sound or act peculiar, don't wait. Close the outer hatch most of the way—I'll show you how to do it from inside the ship—then pump air from the ship into the lock until the water is driven out. You may find there's still a little bit that won't leave, because the hatch isn't exactly horizontal. Don't worry about that. Close the outer hatch completely when it's as water-free as it will go. Then open the inner hatch, go into the lock in your suit, and drag me into the ship. Seal the inner hatch again. Until all that is done, don't waste a moment finding out what happened to me. Did you follow all that, and remember it?"
"Yes." Calm, quiet, and trusting. That made Bony feel good.
"Let's do it, then. Quickly, Liddy, so I don't have time to think of anything that might go wrong."
"Nothing will. I told you, you're going to save us all." Liddy didn't seem capable of a graceless movement. She stripped off her outer clothes and slipped into the suit as though it was something she did every day. Bony, aware that his extra pounds showed a lot more when he was undressed, did the same thing slowly and awkwardly.
Then he was standing in the lock, and Liddy was in the ship. The inner hatch, like the outer one, had a small, round port in it about six inches across. Bony closed the hatch and peered through. He could see Liddy, less than two feet away but with three layers of toughened transparent plastic between them. She raised her eyebrows at him in dumb show, then said over the radio, "All right?"
Bony nodded. "Everything is fine." He had promised to talk to her non-stop, but that might be more demanding than it sounded. What was there to say? He glanced down at the outer hatch, right beneath his feet. He had to be careful to avoid standing on it as the plate slid to one side to admit whatever it was that lay outside the Mood Indigo, but that was the only thing he had to do; the only thing he could do. When the hatch opened, the rest of it would be out of his hands.
Bony glanced again at the inner hatch. Liddy was still there. She pursed her lips in a kiss and said, "Good luck!"
Bony gave the signal and the outer hatch began to slide open. He watched closely, then said, "External liquid pressure seems to be more than pressure in the ship, but not much more. I think it won't rise much farther than my knees. So far, things are just the way I expected. When the hatch is fully open, if everything still seems all right I may try a short trip outside."
"That wasn't on your original plan." Liddy sounded alarmed.
"I know, but we can't stay inside the ship forever. We'll have to go outside sometime."
"Don't take chances, Bony."
"I won't." No one had ever worried on Bony's behalf before. He decided that he liked it—even if Liddy's concern was partly for herself. I expect you to save me, too. That was nice. Let's hope he could justify her confidence. "The outer hatch is fully open now. The liquid level has stopped rising."
All he had to do was take a step forward, and he would sink down. In another five seconds he could be standing on the sea-bed of—what?
This was a world with no name. Bony was nowhere, about to take a step into nothingness. Think of a name. Swirlworld. Not precise enough. Heavy-water-world. That was ugly. The world of the deuteron? That would be Deuteronomy—but at the moment he was more interested in Exodus.
"Are you all right?" said Liddy's anxious voice. "You've stopped talking."
"Sorry. Just playing around with stupid names for this place. Everything still looks good, so I'm going to take a look outside. Here goes."
Bony took a deep breath, added, "I hereby name this planet—Limbo," and stepped into the pale green unknown beyond the open hatch.