Ekstrohm was startled in the morning by a banging on the hatch of his
bubble. It took him a few seconds to put his thoughts in order, and then
he got up from the bunk where he had been resting, sleeplessly.
The angry burnt-red face of Ryan greeted him. "Okay, Stormy, this isn't
the place for fun and games. What did you do with them?"
"Do with what?"
"The dead beasties. All the dead animals laying around the ship."
"What are you talking about, Ryan? What do you think I did with them?"
"I don't know. All I know is that they are gone."
"_Gone?_"
Ekstrohm shouldered his way outside and scanned the veldt.
There was no ring of animal corpses. Nothing. Nothing but wispy grass
whipping in the keen breeze.
"I'll be damned," Ekstrohm said.
"You are right now, buddy. ExPe doesn't like anybody mucking up primary
evidence."
"Where do you get off, Ryan?" Ekstrohm demanded. "Why pick me for your
patsy? This has got to be some kind of local phenomenon. Why accuse a
shipmate of being behind this?"
"Listen, Ekstrohm, I want to give you the benefit of every doubt. But
you aren't exactly the model of a surveyor, you know. You've been riding
on a pink ticket for six years, you know that."
"No," Ekstrohm said. "No, I didn't know that."
"You've been hiding things from me and Nogol every jump we've made with
you. Now comes this! It fits the pattern of secrecy and stealth you've
been involved in."
"What could I do with your lousy dead bodies? What would I want with
them?"
"All I know is that you were outside the bubbles last night, and you
were the only sentient being who came in or out of our alarm web. The
tapes show that. Now all the bodies are missing, like they got up and
walked away."
It was not a new experience to Ekstrohm. No. Suspicion wasn't new to him
at all.
"Ryan, there are other explanations for the disappearance of the bodies.
Look for them, will you? I give you my word I'm not trying to pull some
stupid kind of joke, or to deliberately foul up the expedition. Take my
word, can't you?"
Ryan shook his head. "I don't think I can. There's still such a thing as
mental illness. You may not be responsible."
Ekstrohm scowled.
"Don't try anything violent, Stormy. I outweigh you fifty pounds and I'm
fast for a big man."
"I wasn't planning on jumping you. Why do you have to jump me the first
time something goes wrong? You've only got a lot of formless
suspicions."
"Look, Ekstrohm, do you think I looked out the door and saw a lot of
dead animals missing and immediately decided you did it to bedevil me?
I've been up for hours--thinking--looking into this. You're the only
possibility that's left."
"Why?"
* * * * *
"The bodies are missing. What could it be? Scavengers? The web gives us
a complete census on everything inside it. The only animals inside the
ring are more wart-hogs and, despite their appearance, they aren't
carnivorous. Strictly grass-eaters. Besides, no animal, no insect, no
process of decay could _completely_ consume animals without a trace.
There are no bones, no hide, no nothing."
"You don't know the way bacteria works on this planet. Radiation is so
low, it may be particularly virulent."
"That's a possible explanation, although it runs counter to all the
evidence we've established so far. There's a much simpler explanation,
Ekstrohm. You. You hid the bodies for some reason. What other reason
could you have for prowling around out here at night?"
_I couldn't sleep._ The words were in his throat, but he didn't use
them. They weren't an explanation. They would open more questions than
they would answer.
"You're closing your eyes to the possibility of natural phenomenon,
laying this on me. You haven't adequate proof and you know it."
"Ekstrohm, when something's stolen, you always suspect a suspicious
character before you get around to the possibility that the stolen goods
melted into thin air."
"What," Ekstrohm said with deadly patience, "what do you think I could
have possibly done with your precious dead bodies?"
"You could have buried them. This is a big territory. We haven't been
able to search every square foot of it."
"Ryan, it was thirty or forty below zero last night. How the devil could
I dig holes in this ground to bury anything?"
"At forty below, how could your bacteria function to rot them away?"
Ekstrohm could see he was facing prejudice. There was no need to keep
talking, and no use in it. Still, some reflex made him continue to
frame reasonable answers.
"I don't know what bacteria on _this_ planet can do. Besides, that was
only _one_ example of a natural phenomenon."
"Look, Ekstrohm, you don't have anything to worry about if you're not
responsible. We're going to give you a fair test."
What kind of a test would it be? He wondered. And how fair?
Nogol came trotting up lightly.
"Ryan, I found some more wart-hogs and they keeled over as soon as they
saw me."
"So it _was_ xenophobia," Ekstrohm ventured.
"The important thing," Ryan said, with a sidelong glance at the
surveyor, "is that now we've got what it takes to see if Ekstrohm has
been deliberately sabotaging this expedition."
* * * * *
The body heat of the three men caused the air-conditioner of the tiny
bubble to labor.
"Okay," Ryan breathed. "We've got our eyes on you, Ekstrohm, and the
video circuits are wide open on the dead beasts. All we have to do is
wait."
"We'll have a long wait," Nogol ventured. "With Ekstrohm here, and the
corpses out there, nothing is going to happen."
That would be all the proof they needed, Ekstrohm knew. Negative
results would be positive proof to them. His pink ticket would turn pure
red and he would be grounded for life--_if_ he got off without a
rehabilitation sentence.
But if nothing happened, it wouldn't really prove anything. There was no
way to say that the conditions tonight were identical to the conditions
the previous night. What had swept away those bodies might be comparable
to a flash flood. Something that occurred once a year, or once in a
century.
And perhaps his presence outside _was_ required in some subtle
cause-and-effect relationship.
All this test would prove, if the bodies didn't disappear, was only that
conditions were not identical to conditions under which they did
disappear.
Ryan and Nogol were prepared to accept him, Ekstrohm, as the missing
element, the one ingredient needed to vanish the corpses. But it could
very well be something else.
Only Ekstrohm knew that it _had_ to be something else that caused the
disappearances.
_Or did it?_
He faced up to the question. How did he know he was sane? How could he
be sure that he hadn't stolen and hid the bodies for some murky reason
of his own? There was a large question as to how long a man could go
without sleep, dreams and oblivion, and remain sane.
Ekstrohm forced his mind to consider the possibility. Could he remember
every step he had taken the night before?
It seemed to him that he could remember walking past the creature lying
in the grass, then walking in a circle, and coming back to the base. It
seemed like that to him. But how could he know that it was true?
He couldn't.
* * * * *
There was no way he could prove, even to himself, that he had not
disposed of those alien remains and then come back to his bubble,
contented and happy at the thought of fooling those smug idiots who
could sleep at night.
"How much longer do we have to wait?" Nogol asked. "We've been here nine
hours. Half a day. The bodies are right where I left them outside. There
doesn't seem to be any more question."
Ekstrohm frowned. There was one question. He was sure there was one
question.... Oh, yes. The question was: How did he know he was sane?
He didn't know, of course. That was as good an answer as any. Might as
well accept it; might as well let them do what they wanted with him.
Maybe if he just gave up, gave in, maybe he could sleep then. Maybe he
could ...
Ekstrohm sat upright in his chair.
No. That wasn't the answer. He couldn't know that he was sane, but then
neither could anybody else. The point was, you had to go ahead living as
if you were sane. That was the only way of living.
"Cosmos," Ryan gasped. "Would you look at that!"
Ekstrohm followed the staring gaze of the two men.
On the video grid, one of the "dead" animals was slowly rising, getting
up, walking away.
"A natural phenomenon!" Ekstrohm said.
"Suspended animation!" Nogol ventured.
"Playing possum!" Ryan concluded.
Now came the time for apologies.
Ekstrohm had been through similar situations before, ever since he had
been found walking the corridors at college the night one of the girls
had been attacked. He didn't want to hear their apologies; they meant
nothing to him. It was not a matter of forgiving them. He knew the
situation had not changed.
They would suspect him just as quickly a second time.
"We're supposed to be an exploration team," Ekstrohm said quickly.
"Let's get down to business. Why do you suppose these alien creatures
fake death?"
[Illustration]
Nogol shrugged his wiry shoulders. "Playing dead is easier than
fighting."
"More likely it's a method of fighting," Ryan suggested. "They play dead
until they see an opening. Then--_ripppp_."
"I think they're trying to hide some secret," Ekstrohm said.
"What secret?" Ryan demanded.
"I don't know," he answered. "Maybe I'd better--sleep on it."