Startide Rising (54 page)

The dolphin lieutenant frowned. The way humans could change mental tracks midstride was beyond her comprehension.

“Yesss, I think so, Gillian. That is, so long as that-t remains stable.” She gestured through a port, toward the seacliff that loomed over their hybrid ship.

Gillian looked up at the hulking mass of rock, visible through cracks in the Thennanin armor. “I’d forgotten about that. We’d better keep an eye on it.”

She turned back to the holo display, watching the spreading pattern of disturbances.

Come on, Hikahi! she urged silently. Pick up Toshio and the others and get back here! I have to make a decision soon, and you might get back too late!

The minutes passed. Several times the water seemed to tremble as a low rumble passed through the seafloor.

Gillian watched the blue globe of Kithrup. A string of flickering yellow pinpoints spread gradually northward, like an angry wound in the planet’s side. Finally, the yellow dots merged with a small group of tiny islands in the northeast quadrant.

That’s where Tom is, she remembered.

Suddenly the comm operator thrashed at his station. “Commander! I’m gett-ting a transmission! And it’sss in Anglic!”

H
e held the microphone awkwardly. It had been designed for alien hands. Tom ran his tongue over his cracked lips. He didn’t have time to go over his speech once more: Company would be arriving any moment now.

He pressed the transmit lever.

“Creideiki!” He spoke carefully. “Listen carefully! Record and replay for Gillian! She’ll interpret!”

He knew every ship in near-space was listening to this transmitter by now. Probably a large number of them were already on their way here. If he composed his new lies properly, he could make sure even more of them came.

“My direct wire to the ship is broken,” he said. “And a hundred kilometers is a long way to have to carry a message, so I’ll risk this new coder, hoping it’s not been broken in all the fighting here.”

That last was a tissue of fantasies for Galactic consumption. Now for the real message. Hidden in context, he had to tell Streaker what he knew.

“Jill? Our egg hatched, hon. And a zoo spilled out. A zoo of fierce critters!

“But I came across only one bedraggled sample of the brand we’re shopping for. I’ve heard clues it’s still for sale, on higher shelves, but those have been just clues. You and H and C are going to have to decide on that basis.

“Remember when old Jake Demwa took us along with him on that mission to the central Library on Tanith? Remember what he said about hunches? Tell Creideiki about it. It’s his decision, but my gut feeling is, follow Jake’s advice!”

He felt a thickening in his throat. He should cut this off: No sense in letting the Eatees zero in too closely.

“Jill.” He coughed. “Hon I’m out of the game now. Get Herbie and the rest of the data to the Council. And those abos, too. I’ve got to believe all this has been worth it.”

He closed his eyes and gripped the mike. “When you see old Jake, hoist a glass with him for me, will you?”

He wanted to say more, but realized that he was already getting a little too unambiguous. He couldn’t afford to let the Galactics’ language computers figure out what he was talking about.

He pursed his lips. And bid adieu in a language designed for such things.

* Petals floating by,

* Drift through my woman’s hand,

* As she remembers me—*

The carrier wave hissed until he cut the circuit.

He rose and carried the radio outside. Carefully approaching the edge of an open pool, he dropped the transmitter in. If anyone had locked into a resonance with the crystals in the set, that Eatee would have to dive for it.

He stood there, by the pool, and watched the low clouds roll past, dark and heavy with unspent rain.

They’d be arriving any moment. His weapons were at his belt, and his breathing tube, and a full canteen. He was ready for them.

He was standing that way, watching and waiting, when the steaming volcano on the horizon began to growl, then cough, then angrily spout bright fireworks into the sky.

The bridge was a blur. Gillian’s eyes swam, but when she blinked the tears would not bead and drop away. Her eyes clung to them, like precious things.

“Shall we answer?” Tsh’t spoke softly from next to her.

Gillian shook her head. No, she tried to say. But she could only mouth the word. Telempathically, she sensed the sympathy of those around her.

How can I mourn, she wondered, when I can still feel him faintly? He is still alive out there, somewhere.

How can I mourn?

She felt a swirl of movement as a fin approached cautiously and tried to report to Tsh’t without disturbing her.

Gillian pressed her burning eyelids together. The tears flowed at last, in narrow trails down her cheeks. She couldn’t reach under her mask to brush them away, so she let them lie. When she opened her eyes, her vision had cleared.

“I heard that, Wattaceti. Which way is Takkata-Jim headed?”

“Toward the Galactic flotillas, Commander. Though the fleets seem to be in chaosss! They are boiling every which way, after the confusion caused by that psi-burst. A major free-for-all is shaping up above … above Mr. Orley’s position.”

Gillian nodded. “We’ll wait a little while longer. Go to condition yellow and keep me informed.”

Off-duty personnel were called to their posts. Suessi and D’Anite reported that the engines were warm.

Last chance, Hikahi, Gillian thought. Are you coming?

“Gillian!” Lucky Kaa called. With his harness arm he pointed out one of the ports. “The cliff!”

Gillian hurried over and looked where the pilot indicated. The entire mass of rock was trembling. Cracks began to appear in the great wall that towered over Streaker.

“Lift stations!” Gillian commanded. “Tsh’t, take us out of here!”

C
ullcullabra bowed low before the Soro Krat.

“Have you interpreted the human’s broadcast?” She snapped.

The stocky Pil bowed again, backing away slightly. “No, Fleet-Mother, not completely. The human spoke in their two doggerel languages called ‘Anglic’ and ‘Trinary.’ We have translation programs for both, of course, but they are so chaotic and contextual—unlike any civilized language…”

The Librarian flinched as Krat hissed at him. “Have you nothing?”

“Mistress, we think the last part of his message, in the dolphin-speech, may be the important part. It might have been a command to his clients, or…”

The Librarian piped dismay and dodged back into his station as a ling-plum missed him by inches.

“Hypotheses! Tentative conjectures!” Krat stormed. “Even the Tandu boil with excitement and send expedition after futile piddling expedition to the site on the planet’s surface from which the message emanated. And we must, perforce, follow, no?”

She stared about. Her crew avoided her gaze.

“Has anyone even a hypothesis to explain that psi-assault which struck a short time ago, and seems to have disoriented every sophont in the system? Was that also, a chimera of the Earthlings? Are the volcanoes that fill our instruments with static mere trickery?”

The crew tried to look simultaneously busy and attentive. No one wanted to risk the ire of the fleet mother.

A Paha warrior strode from the office of detection.

“Mistress,” it announced. “We did not notice before because of the volcanoes, but there has been a launching from the planet’s surface.”

Krat felt a turn of glee. This was what she had been waiting for! Though she had sent ships of her own to the site of the radio messages, she had kept the core of her fleet together.

“Diversions! They were all diversions! The radio calls, the psi attacks, even the volcanoes!”

A part of her was curious about how the Earthlings had managed the last two. But that question would be solved when the humans and their clients were captured and interrogated.

“The Earthlings waited until much of the battle had moved near the planet,” she muttered. “And now they make their attempt to escape! Now we must…”

Cullcullabra came up to her side and bowed. “Mistress, I’ve done a deep search of the Library, and I think I know the source of the psi and the…”

The Pil’s eyes bugged out as Krat stabbed him in the abdomen with her mating claw. Krat stood up, carrying the Librarian in the air, then flung his lifeless body over to the wall.

She stood over the body breathing deeply of the death odors. No trouble would come over this killing, at least. The idiotic Pil had actually interrupted her! No one would deny that she had been within her rights this time.

She sheathed her claw. It had felt good. Not quite like mating with a male of her own race, who could fight back in kind, but good.

“Tell me about the Earthling ship,” she crooned to the Paha.

She noticed it waited a full second after she finished speaking to begin. “Mistress,” it said. “It is not their main vessel. It appears to be a scout ship, of some sort.”

Krat nodded. “An emissary. I wondered why they did not try to work out a surrender agreement before this. Move the fleet to intercept this vessel. We must act before the Tandu notice it!

“Have our new Thennanin allies take the rear. I want them to understand that they are junior partners in this enterprise.”

“Mistress, the Thennanin have already begun preparations to leave us. They appear to be eager to join the chaos at the planet’s surface.”

Krat grunted. “Let them. We are even with the Tandu again. And the Thennanin are almost used up anyway. Let them depart. Then we proceed after the scout ship!”

She settled back onto the vletoor cushion and hummed to herself.

Soon. Soon.

The masters demanded too much. How could they expect the Acceptor to report specifically when so much was happening!

It was beautiful! Everything was going on at once! Sparkling little battles over the planet’s surface … bright hot volcanoes … and that great psychic roar of anger that had poured out of the planet itself only a little while ago!

The anger still steamed and spurned. Why were the masters so uninterested in something so unique? Psi from below a planet’s surface? The Acceptor could tell the Tandu so much about that angry voice, but they were only interested in shutting it out. It distracted them and made them feel vulnerable.

The Acceptor witnessed it all in bliss, until the punishment came again. The masters applied a neural whip. Its legs jerked at the unpleasant sensation that coursed through its brain.

Should it let the “punishment” alter its behavior this time? The Acceptor considered.

It decided to ignore the “pain.” Let them cajole and shout. The Acceptor was enthralled by the angry voices that churned below, and listened with all its might.

W
hat the devil…?”

Dennie was rolled off the dry-shelf to splash into the water below. Sah’ot squawked in confusion as the tiny ship’s hold tipped.

Then, in addition to the physical tossing, a rolling wave and psychic discomfort began to fill their heads. Dennie coughed water and grabbed a wall stanchion. She wanted to cover her ears.

“Not again,” she moaned. She tried to use the techniques Toshio had taught her …focusing on her heartbeat to drive out the grinding static in her head. She hardly even noticed when Sah’ot shouted, “It’sss them!”

The fin pressed the hatch button with his beak and sped out into the hallway. He streaked into the tiny control room.

“Creideiki!” he began, forgetting for a moment that the captain could not understand him. “It’s them. The voices from below!”

Creideiki looked back at him, and Sah’ot realized that the captain already knew. In fact, he seemed hardly surprised. Creideiki crooned a soft melody of acceptance. He appeared content.

From the pilot’s station, Keepiru announced, “I’m getting neutrinos and anti-g flux! They’re coming from dead ahead. A small ship taking off.”

Hikahi nodded. “Probably Takkata-Jim. I hope Gillian’s right that he’s been taken care of.”

They continued to drive underwater toward the east. About a half-hour later, Keepiru shouted again. “More anti-g! A big ship! Taking off from near to the southwest!”

Creideiki’s flukes struck the surface of the water.

* Up, up!

Up and Look!

* Look! :

Hikahi nodded to Keepiru. “Take her up.”

The skiff surfaced. Seawater slid in sheets off the ports.

They clustered around a southern port and watched as a distant wedge-shaped object erupted from the horizon, and lumbered into the sky, slowly gathering speed. They watched as it flew south, passing the speed of sound, finally disappearing into the high clouds.

They watched even after Streaker’s contrail began to drift and slowly come apart under Kithrup’s contrary winds.

“
They are the lads that always live before the wind
.”

T
oshio swam hard as the swell tried to drag him backward. He fought the current and strove for the open sea. Finally, just as he felt his aching arms and legs could do no more, he reached calmer waters. With burning lungs he turned and watched as the metal-mound, now almost two kilometers away, sank slowly into its pit.

The sinking couldn’t go on. The drill-tree had not completed its excavations when he and Dennie had blown it apart. The island would probably settle until the shaft was plugged.

Dull detonations groaned on all sides of him. Toshio treaded water and looked around. On islands in all directions trees swayed, and not from the wind. In the distance he saw at least three roiling clouds of steam and smoke rise from boiling patches in the sea. There was a growling of subsea quakes.