Foreigner by Robert J. Sawyer Read Free Book Online

ceiling. Its width was about equal to Novato’s arm-span.
    “No wonder we missed that,” said Garios, his little eyes peering intently. “It’s difficult to see, even with two lamps.”
    Novato nodded. “Maybe this panel was originally painted differently from the rest of the wall,” she said. They’d found colored dust in the ship that seemed to be dried pigment that had peeled off the walls; the blue material wasn’t porous, so paint probably didn’t stick to it well even under the best of circumstances.
    “And where exactly did you see the flashing?” said Garios.
    Novato’s sash was directly below the middle of the rectangle. She pointed to the panel’s center.
    “May I?” said Garios.
    Novato scuttled out of the way. Garios came in, a lamp in each hand, and peered at the wall. “Maybe,” he said at first, and “Maybe” a little later. Then: “Yup, there it is. God, it’s hard to see! But there are little bits of glass inlaid into the wall here, absolutely flush with the wall material. A string of those geometric shapes the ark-makers used for writing. Seven, no, eight shapes. A word.” Garios sighed. “I guess we’ll never know what it said.”
    “‘Emergency,’” said Novato. “Something like that.”
    Garios sounded surprised. “What makes you think that?”
    “Have you ever been on a hunt that’s gone badly? Lots of injuries? When healers arrive, they prioritize whom to treat. Those who have the most critical need for attention are tended to first. Of all the things on this ship, the only one that we’ve seen any sign of still working at all is this panel, whatever it is. It’s obviously the priority now that a little power is somehow trickling into the ship. I’m no sailor, but I suspect Keenir would say that if he had to prioritize things aboard a ship, lifeboats, fire-fighting buckets, and other emergency equipment would be the most important.”
    Garios grunted, not convinced. He had brought plans of the ark with him. He set his lamps on the floor and proceeded to unfurl a chart, kneeling down to read it. “According to this, there’s just another one of those multi-bed rooms on the other side of this wall. Now, yes, the wall is thicker than normal here — it’s about a third of a pace thick. That’s not unusual, though. There are lots of places where the walls are even thicker. But surely there can’t be any lifeboats stored behind here. Whatever is back there can’t be very big.”
    Novato nodded. “Let’s see if we can get the panel off. It must open somehow.”
    “Maybe it’s a sliding door, like the others we’ve seen.”
    Novato’s tail swished in negation. “Those doors are recessed and apparently normally were moved by an arrangement of gears that must have required some power to operate. No, if I’m right — if this is a hold for emergency equipment — it’ll be designed to open without any power.” She paused. “If you were one of those five-eyed creatures, how would you open something?”
    Garios looked at the floor. “Well, I’d only have one useful limb — that long trunk — so the method would be something that you or I could do with one hand. And, let’s see, those creatures only came up to about here on me.” He held a hand at the middle of his chest. “They’ve got a lot of reach with those trunks, but I imagine if they wanted any real leverage, they’d have to fold the trunk over.”
    Novato nodded. “So, if we’re looking for a handle, it would be in the middle of the panel, right about here.” She pointed.
    “But there isn’t anything there,” said Garios.
    Novato, ever the empiricist, pressed her palm against the center of the panel. Nothing. She tried again, leaning all her weight against it. As soon as she stopped, the panel popped forward as though it had been on springs. Garios surged in and grabbed one side of the heavy sheet. Novato took the other side, and they lowered it to the floor. From the back they could clearly