Humanx - Cachalot Part 4

Abruptly, the doorway was filled by a large, bearish form. It squeezed into the cabin, ducking its head to clear the entryway, and surveyed the human contents.

The ma.s.sive man was clad only in a trylon pareu, patterned with blue nebulae and pink flowers, loosely draped around his waist down to his ankles. Chest and chin were hairless, though the huge round skull was thickly overgrown with black ringlets that might have been combed once in the past dozen years.

While the man was only a few centimeters taller than Rachael, his physique was that of a giant. Or a granite ma.s.sif. He was in his early forties, Cora guessed, but with the roundness of a child in his fea- tures. Most prominent among the latter was a consider- able belly that curved out and away from beneath his chest but had no fat ripples. The structure was a smooth, slick curve of solid muscle that arced back to vanish beneath the almost hidden waistband of the pareu.

The face was also rounded, giving Cora the eerie

feeling she was looking not at a mature man but at a seven-year-old giant. Besides his size, all that marked him as a knowledgable adult was the instrument-laden belt he wore around hips and waist, tucked more under the belly than across it. She studied the array, recog- nized the emergency underwater breathing unit that could give a diver twenty minutes of air, an under- water lumar, several instruments of uncertain purpose, and, on his left side, a small rectangle of metal with a constantly changing digital readout. She had a similar rectangle in her own gear. On command it could pro- vide time, depth, direction and speed of current, water temperature, and numerous other factors of vital inter- est to anyone working underwater. It was expensive, not the sort of device that would be carried by, for example, a common fisherman. Possibly he was at- tached to the local science station? She would find out soon enough.

The ma.s.sive amount of flesh he revealed did not dis- turb her. Of necessity the citizens of the Common- weatlh who lived on its oceans wore less than their landlocked counterparts. Partly this was related to con- vention, partly to reasons of comfort, and partly, she often suspected, to man's having risen from the sea and his secret wish to return to it. The closer man got to the sea, the greater the number of civilization's artifacts he seemed to shuck.

Cora was dressed only in a simple one-piece bit of shipboard fluff that ended above her knees. Even so, now that she was on Cachalot, she felt unbearably overdressed. Once they were a.s.signed quarters, she would change into a suit. She couldn't wait.

It would be nicer still to be able to go about only in skin, but even a world as casual as Cachalot would likely be affected by universal conventions. Sadly, these included the wearing of at least minimal clothing.

Not all the inhabitants, let alone visitors and tempor- ary workers, would willingly trade false morality for

22 CACHALOT.

sensibility and comfort. And there was always the awk- ward problem of the desires and proximity of men.

Those she would be working with would be fellow sci- entists, but experience had shown that scientific detach- ment had a disarming way of dissolving in her presence. Not to mention in Rachael's.

"Sam Mataroreva." The man was looking down at her. His voice was gentle as a cat's, as easy and open as he seemed to be. He was ambling down the aisle, squeezing his bulk lithely between the lounges. Despite his size, he was physically less intimidating to her than men half as large. Perhaps it was the baby-smooth, hairless visage. Perhaps simply the charming smile.

"You're Cora Xamantina?" His palm enfolded hers.

She pulled it away defensively. "Pardon?" Now, why did you do that? she asked herself. Why that instinctive pulling away? Looks and deceitfulness did not neces- sarily go together. That was Silvio's fault. Scientifi- cally, there was no basis for such an a.s.sumption.

Mataroreva appeared not to notice her defensive- ness. He was already shaking Rachael's hand. "And you are Rachael, e'?"

"Yes." She shied away slightly when that huge ma.s.s of flesh leaned over her.

Some official sent out to greet them, Cora thought.

Well, that was only to be expected. She stood, prepared to ask those same but necessary questions all visitors to a new place must ask, when Mataroreva shocked her by moving farther down the aisle and addressing a third pa.s.senger.

"And Mr. Merced, of course."

"That's right."

Cora stared open-mouthed at the little man.

"You're from Commissioner Hwoshien's office?"

Merced asked.

Mataroreva smiled, ran thick fingers through the kelp-bed on his head. "Sort of a liaison between the government and the private companies chartered to

23.

operate here. That gives me the best and the worst of both sectors."

Cora continued to stare at Merced, who looked like a dark splinter fallen from the flank of the huge Poly- nesian. Merced noticed her stare, appeared more em- barra.s.sed than ever.

"I'm terribly sorry. I suppose I should have intro- duced myself before." He stepped out into the aisle.

"I was just so fascinated by your daughter's instrument.

They're very rare, you know, and . . ." He stopped, fl.u.s.tered, and extended a hand. "I'm Professor of Ad- vanced Oceanographic Research at the University of Toleamia on Repler."

"Toleamia?" She wasn't ready to believe this irrita- ting person was a representative of so prestigious an inst.i.tution.

"That's right." He sounded apologetic. "Please ex- cuse me. I really was interested in the neurophon."

"And in its operator?"

"Mother..." Rachael said wamingly.

"I'd be lying if I said no." Merced seemed nothing if not truthful.

Mataroreva's smile had faded somewhat as he lis- tened to the exchange."Am I missing something?"

"No." Cora turned, forced herself to smile up at him.

"Nothing important. We're very glad to be here, Mr.

Mataroreva. I just hope that we can be of some help."

She noted that they were the only pa.s.sengers still aboard the shuttle. "If I seem confused, it's only be- cause I was led to believe that my daughter and I were the only experts called in for consultation, to con- sider your problem." She looked at Merced. "I don't suppose your presence here and your being greeted by Mr. Mataroreva could mean you're going to work on something else?"

"We're all here for the same reason, I'm afraid."

Merced shifted his feet. "For what it's worth, I was as ignorant of your involvement until you boarded the

24.

CACHALOT.

CACHALOT.

25.

shuttle as you were of mine. The difference was that I knew something of you by reputation and sight, and you did not know me." He forced a smile. "I shouldn't think we'd have any trouble working together."

"a.s.suming that we do indeed end up working to- gether." Cora was conceding nothing.

Mataroreva was growing distinctly uncomfortable.

She decided he deserved some rea.s.surance.

"I'm not usually this testy. It's been a long, difficult