The Practice Effect (3 page)

As Dennis let go of the biochemistry tome in surprise, the heavy volume landed on his foot.

“Ow!” He hopped, reaching up to grab at his unwelcome passenger.

But the little creature peeped loudly, plaintively. It sounded more frightened than angry. At the last moment, Dennis restrained himself from using force to tear it off. Instead, he managed to peel one webbed paw away from his eye—just in time to duck beneath a wrench swung by Bernald Brady! Dennis cursed and the “piglet” squealed as the bludgeon whistled just overhead.

“Hold still, Nuel! I almost had him!”

“And almost took my head off, too!” Dennis backed away. “Idiot! Are you trying to kill me?”

Brady seemed to contemplate the proposition syllogistically. Finally, he shrugged. “All right, then, Nuel. Come out slowly and we’ll grab him.”

Dennis started forward. But as he approached the other men, the creature squeaked pathetically and tightened its grip.

“Hold off,” Dennis said. “It’s just frightened, that’s all. Give me a minute. I may be able to get it down myself.”

Dennis backed over to a crate and sat down. He reached up tentatively to touch the alien again.

To Dennis’s surprise the shuddering creature seemed to calm under his touch. He spoke softly as he stroked the thin, soft fur that covered its pink sin. Gradually its panicked grip
eased. Finally he was able to lift the creature with both hands and bring it down to his lap.

The men and women in the work gang cheered. Dennis smiled back with more confidence than he felt.

It was just the sort of thing that could become a legend.
“… Yes, boy
. I
was there the day ol’ Director Nuel tamed a savage alien critter that had him by the eyeballs.…
”

Dennis looked down at the thing he had “captured.” The creature looked back at him with an expression he was sure he had seen somewhere before. But where?

Then he remembered. For his sixth birthday his parents had given him an illustrated book of Finnish fairy tales. He recalled many of the drawings to this day. And this creature had the sharp-toothed, green-eyed, devilish grin of a pixie.

“A pixolet,” he announced softly as he petted the little creature. “A cross between piglet and pixie. Does the name suit?”

It didn’t appear to understand the words. He doubted it was actually sentient. But something seemed to tell Dennis that it understood
him
. It grinned back with tiny, needle-sharp teeth.

Brady approached with a gunny sack. “Quick, Nuel. While it’s passive, get it into this!”

Dennis stared at the man. The suggestion wasn’t worthy of a reply. He arose with the pixolet in the crook of his left arm. The creature purred.

“Come on, Brady,” he said, “let’s finish the tour so I can get my equipment list together. Then I’ve got some preparations to make.

“You may thank our extraterrestrial friend here for making up my mind for me. I’ll go through the zievatron and visit his homeworld for you.”

The zievatron had become a one-way road. Anything shoved through the airlock would arrive on the anomaly world, as
planned. Robots could still be sent through, as had been done for almost a month. But nothing came back.

Enough faint telemetry came back to show that the machine was still linked to the same anomaly world—the place the flying piglet creature had been taken from.

But the zievatron was incapable of sending even a feather back to Earth.

All machines fail sooner or later, Dennis realized. Undoubtedly the problem could be solved simply by replacing a burned-out module—maybe two minutes’ work. The rub was that it would have to be done in person. Somebody would have to go through the zievatron to do it by hand.

Of course, a manned expedition had been planned anyway. These weren’t exactly the best circumstances for such a first visit, but somebody would have to do it, or the world they had found would be lost forever. Dennis had seen pictures taken by the exploring robots before the failure. They might search for a hundred years before stumbling onto another place so compatible with human life.

Anyway, he had made up his mind.

The equipment Dennis had asked for lay in stacks just outside the airlock door. The speed with which the list had been filled showed how anxious Dr. Flaster was to have results soon. Sending Brady after the supplies had also kept the fellow out of his hair while he triple-checked his calculations.

He had insisted on a long list of survival supplies, not that he expected to need them on this first outing. Even replacing every module in the return mechanism shouldn’t take more than an hour, but he wasn’t taking any chances. There were even cases of vitamins in case he was stranded for a while, and the biology report had missed a decimal point in its compatibility rating of the anomaly world.

“Okay, Nuel,” Brady said. He addressed Dennis from the left side. The pixolet rode Dennis’s other shoulder, surveying the preparations grandly, hissing whenever Brady approached.

“You’ve got almost enough gear to build another damned zievatron when you arrive on Flasteria. You should be able to fix it in five minutes. You’d think you were the Admirable
Bird, lugging all that survival junk around, too. But that’s your business.”

The fellow actually sounded jealous. Still, Dennis hadn’t noticed him volunteering to go.

“Just remember to fix the machine first!” Brady went on. “Then it won’t matter if something eats you while you’re trying to talk to all the local animals.”

Richard Schwall, one of the techs who had worked with Dennis back in the early days, looked up from checking a schematic and shared a look of commiseration with Dennis. Everyone at S.I.T. appreciated Brady’s sunny attitude.

“Dennis!”

Gabriella Versgo’s valkyrian figure wove toward them through the crowd of technicians. When one tech was slow to get out of the way, he was swept aside by a well-swung pelvis.

Brady beamed as she approached, looking much like a lovestruck puppy. Gabbie gave him a brilliant smile and then took Dennis’s right arm in a grip that partly interrupted the blood supply to his hand.

“Well, Dennis,” she said, sighing happily, “I’m glad you and Bernie are talking to each other again! I always thought it was silly of you two to feud so.”

Actually, she sounded as if she thought it was delightful. Dennis realized that Gabbie was under the mistaken belief that his enmity with Brady was over her. If that really were the case Dennis would have run up a white flag and surrendered long ago!

“I just came ahead to warn you two boys that Dr. Flaster’s on his way down to see Dennis off. And he’s bringing Boona Calumny with him!”

Dennis looked blank for a moment.

“The new Science Minister for Mediterranea!” Gabbie cried. She tugged his elbow sharply, accidentally thumbing his ulnar nerve in the process. Dennis gasped, but Gabbie went on, oblivious to his momentary agony.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” She exclaimed. “Such an eminent man coming down to watch the first human set foot on an anomaly world!” In her final sweeping gesture she released her grip. Dennis stifled a sigh and massaged his arm.

Gabriella cooed at the pixolet, trying to chuck its diminutive chin. The little creature bore it for a few moments, then
erupted into a tremendous yawn, revealing twin rows of needle-sharp teeth. She quickly withdrew her hand.

She went around to Dennis’s other side and leaned up to kiss him primly on the cheek. “Gotta run now. I have an important crystal in a float-zone. Have a good trip. Come back a hero and we’ll celebrate special, I promise.” She winked and nudged him with her hip, almost knocking the pixolet from its perch.

The scowling Brady brightened suddenly when Gabriella gave him a peck as well, for equality. Then she sauntered away, doubtless aware that half the men in the lab were watching.

Richard Schwall shook his head and muttered. “… woman could upstage Lady Macbeth …” was all Dennis made out.

Brady snorted indignantly and stalked off.

As Dennis returned to his calculations, checking one last time to make sure he had made no mistakes, the pixolet launched itself into a low glide to land on a perch overlooking Richard Schwall. It peered over the balding tech’s shoulder, watching as he adjusted a portable electronic drafting tool for Dennis to take along.

For two days, ever since Dennis had declared the creature tame, the technicians had routinely looked up to find those tiny green eyes staring down at them. Uncannily, the pixolet always seemed to choose the trickiest adjustments to oversee.

As the preparations progressed smoothly, the creature became a status symbol of sorts. The techs used bits of candy to attract it over to their stations. It had become a good luck charm—a company mascot.

When Schwall looked up and saw the pixolet, he grinned and picked up the little alien so it could get a better look. Dennis put down his notes and watched the two interact.

The pixolet appeared less enthralled with what Schwall did than how the tech
felt
about it. When his face showed pleasure, the creature looked back and forth quickly, from Schwall to the sketch pad and back again.

Although it was clearly not a sentient being, Dennis wondered just how intelligent the little alien really was.

“Hey, Dennis!” Schwall grew excited. “Look at this!
I’ve made a real neat picture of the launch tower in Ecuador! You know, the Vanilla Needle? I’ve never really noticed how good I am at this! Your little friend here really
is
lucky!”

There was a commotion at the back of the lab. Dennis nudged his associate. “Come on, Rich,” he said. “Get up. They’re here at last.”

Escorted by Bernald Brady, the lab Director approached the zievatron. With Flaster walked a short, stubby man with dark, intense features, who Dennis realized must be the new Science Minister of Mediterranea.

As he was introduced, Boona Calumny seemed to look right through Dennis. His voice was very high.

“So this is the brave young fellow who’s going to take over your wonderful work here, Marcel? And he’s starting right off by stepping through into that wonderful new place you’ve found?”

Flaster beamed. “Yes, sir! And we certainly are proud of him!” He winked conspiratorially at Dennis. Dennis was starting to realize just how badly Flaster wanted a success to show for his tenure at S.I.T.

“You’ll be careful in there, won’t you, my boy?” Calumny’s finger pointed at the airlock. Dennis wondered if the man really understood what was going on.

“Yessir, I will.”

“Good. We want you to return hale and hearty!”

Dennis nodded pleasantly, automatically translating the politician’s remarks from Executivese to English.
He means that if I don’t come back there’ll be some nasty paperwork to fill out
.

“I promise, sir.”

“Excellent. You know, bright young men like you are hard to find these days!”
(Actually, you squirts are a dime a dozen, but you’re helping my buddy out of a jam.)

“Yessir,” Dennis agreed again.

“We have a real shortage of daring, adventurous types, and I’m sure you’ll go far,” Calumny went on.
(We’re a bit low on meatheads this month. Maybe we can use you for a few more suicide missions if you come back from this one.)

“I expect so, sir.”

Calumny gave Dennis a very democratic handshake, then
turned to whisper something to Flaster. The director pointed to a door, and the minister waddled out of the lab. Probably to wash his hands, Dennis thought.

“All right, Dr. Nuel,” Flaster said cheerfully, “hoist your little alien friend and let’s be off with you. I expect you back in under two hours … less if you can control your inclination to explore. We’ll have champagne chilled by the time you return.”

Dennis caught the pixolet in a midair glide from Rich Schwall’s hands. The little creature chirped excitedly. After all the crates were loaded ahead of him, Dennis stepped over the airlock’s combing.

“Beginning closure procedure,” one of the techs announced. “Good luck, Dr. Nuel!”

Schwall gave him thumbs up.

Bernald Brady came forward to guide the heavy door. “Well, Nuel,” he said lowly as the gears slowly turned, “you checked everything, didn’t you? You poked through the machine from top to bottom, read the biology report, and didn’t need to consult me at all, did you?”

Dennis didn’t like the fellow’s tone. “What are you getting at?”

Brady smiled, speaking softly so only Dennis could hear him. “I never mentioned it to the others, since it seemed so absurd. But it’s only fair to tell you.”

“Tell me about what?”

“Oh, it could be nothing at all, Nuel. Or maybe something pretty unusual … like the possibility that this anomaly world has a different set of physical laws than hold sway on Earth!”

By now the hatch had half closed. The timer was running.

This was ridiculous. Dennis wasn’t going to let Brady get to him. “Stuff it, Bernie,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t believe a word of your blarney.”

“Oh? Remember those purple mists you found last year, where gravity repelled?”

“Those were different entirely. No major difference in physical law could endanger me on Pix’s world—not when the biology is so compatible.

“But if there’s something
minor
you haven’t told me about,”
Dennis continued, stepping forward, “you’d better spill it now or I swear I’ll …”

Strangely, Brady’s antagonism seemed to fall away, replaced by apparently genuine puzzlement.

“I don’t
know
what it is, Nuel. It had to do with the instruments we sent through. Their efficiencies seemed to change the longer they were there! It was almost as if one of the thermodynamic laws was subtly different.”

Too late, Dennis realized that Brady wasn’t
just
egging him. He really
had
discovered something that honestly perplexed him. But by now the hatch had closed almost all the way.

“Which law, Brady? Dammit, stop this process until you tell me!
What
law?”

Through the bare crack that remained, Brady whispered, “Guess.”