"I happen to be nominal leader of this party." Armitage stood very tall,
very determined. "Obviously the atmosphere is pure. Let's make some
progress!"
* * * * *
_February 2_
This is progress?
For the past ten days, we've worked the clock around. Quantitative
analysis, soil, water, flora, fauna, cellular, microscopic. Nothing. Max
has discovered a few lethal alkaloids in some greenish tree fungus, but
I doubt if the colony were indiscriminate fungus eaters. Bishop has
found a few new unicellular types, but nothing dangerous. There's one
tentacled thing that reminds me of a frightened rotifer. Max named it
_Armitagium_. Armitage is pleased.
Perhaps the fate of the hundred colonists will remain one of those
forever unsolved mysteries, like the fate of the _Mary Celeste_ or the
starship _Prometheus_.
This planet's _clean_.
* * * * *
_February 4_
Today Max and I went specimen-hunting.
It must be autumn on Epsilon. Everywhere the trees are a riot of scarlet
and ocher, the scrubby bushes are shedding their leaves. Once we came
upon a field of thistlelike plants with spiny seed-pods that opened as
we watched, the purple spores drifting afield in an eddy of tinted mist.
Max said it reminded him of Scotland. He kissed me.
On the way back to the ship we saw two skeletons. Each had its fingers
tightly locked about the other's throat.
* * * * *
_February 20_
We have, to date, analyzed nine hundred types of plant life for toxin
content. Bishop has tested innumerable spores and bacteria. Our slide
file is immense and still growing. Max has captured several insects.
There is one tiny yellow bush-spider with a killing bite, but the
species seem to be rare. Bishop has isolated a mold bacterium that could
cause a high fever, but its propagation rate is far too low to enable it
to last long in the bloodstream.
The most dangerous animal seems to be a two-foot-tall arthropod. They're
rare and peaceable. Bishop vivisected one yesterday and found nothing
alarming.
Last night I dreamed about the first expedition. I dreamed they all
committed suicide because Epsilon was too good for them.
This is ridiculous!
We're working in a sort of quiet madness getting no closer to the
solution.
Armitage talked to Senator Farragut yesterday and hinted darkly that the
first ship's hydroponics system went haywire and that an improper
carbohydrate imbalance killed the colony. Pretty thin. Farragut's
getting impatient. Bishop looks haggard. Max looks grim.
* * * * *
_February 23_
Our quantitative tests are slowing down. We play a rubber of bridge each
night before retiring. Last night I trumped Max's ace and he snarled at
me. We had a fight. This morning I found a bouquet of purple
spore-thistles at my cabin door. Max is sweet.
This afternoon, by mutual consent, we all knocked off work and played
bridge. Bishop noticed the thistle bouquet in a vase over the
chronometer. He objected.
"They're harmless," Max said. "Besides, they smell nice."
I can hardly wait for tomorrow's rubber. Our work is important, but one
does need relaxation.
* * * * *
_February 25_
Armitage is cheating.
Yesterday he failed to score one of my overtricks. We argued bitterly
about it. Taylor, of course, sided with him. Three hands later, Armitage
got the bid in hearts. "One hundred and fifty honors," he announced.
"That's a lie," I said.
"It was only a hundred," he grinned. "But thank you, Greta. Now I shan't
try the queen finesse."
No wonder they've won the last three evenings! Max is furious with them
both.
* * * * *
_February 28_
We played all day. Max and I kept losing. I always knew Armitage was a
pompous toad, but I never realized he was _slimy_.
This afternoon it was game all, and Armitage overcalled my diamond
opener with three spades. Bishop took him to four and I doubled,
counting on my ace-king of hearts and diamonds.
I led out my diamond ace and Armitage trumped from his hand. Bishop laid
down his dummy. He had clubs and spades solid, with doubleton heart and
diamonds.
"None?" Max asked Armitage dangerously.
Armitage tittered. I wanted to scratch his eyes out. He drew trump
immediately and set up clubs on board, dumping the heart losers from his
hand, and finally sluffing--_two diamonds_.
"Made seven," he said complacently, "less two for the diamond renege
makes five, one overtrick doubled. We were vulnerable, so it's game and
rubber."