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Orley hummed to himself a melody that few other human beings could attempt. Small gene-crafted sinuses reverberated under his skull, sending a low refrain into the water around him.
In sleep, your caring Touches me, Where, waking, I let it not In distance, I will Call to you, And touch you as you sleep *
Of course Gillian couldn't actually hear his gift poem. His own psi powers were quite modest. Still, she might pick up a hint. Other things she had done had surprised him more.
The dolphin escort had gathered at the sled. Suessi had awakened and was checking his lashings with Lieutenant Tsh't.
Tom launched himself from his aerie toward the group. Tsh't saw him and took a quick breath from an airdome before swimming up to meet him halfway.
"I wish you would reconsider doing thisss," she implored when they met. "I'll be frank. Your presence is good for morale. If you were lossst it would be a blow."
Tom smiled and put a hand on her flank. He had already come to terms with his poor chances of returning.
"I don't see any other way, Tsh't. All the other parts of my plan can be handled by others, but I'm the only one who can bait the hook. You know that.
"Besides," he grinned, "Creideiki will have one more chance to call me back if he doesn't like the plan. I asked that he send Gillian to meet me at Hikahi's island, with the glider and the supplies I need. If she tells me his answer is no, I'll be back at the ship before you."
Tsh't looked away. "I doubt he'll sssay no," she whistled low and almost inaudibly.
"Hmm? What do you mean?"
Evasively, Tsh't answered in Trinary.
Creideiki leads us- Is our master Yet we imagine- Secret orders *
Tom sighed. There it was again, the suspicion that Earth would never let the first dolphin-commanded vessel go out without disguised human supervision. Naturally, most of the rumors centered around himself. It was bothersome, because Creideiki was an excellent captain. Also, it detracted from one of the purposes of the mission, to make a demonstration that would boost neo-fin self-confidence for a generation.
Then in my leaving- Learn a lesson, Aboard Streaker- Is your captain. *
Tsh't must have been running low on the breath she had taken at the sled's airdome. Bubbles leaked from her blowmouth. Still she looked back at him resignedly and spoke in Anglic.
"All right-t. After Suessi leaves, we'll get you on your way. We'll continue working here until we get ordersss from Creideiki."
"Good." Tom nodded. "And you still approve of the rest of the plan?"
Tsh't turned away, her eyes recessed.
Keneenk and logic Join to sing Its tune The plan is all between Us and Our doom We'll all do our part Tom reached over and hugged her. "I know we can count on you, you sweet old fish-catcher. I'm not worried at all. Now let's say good-bye to Hannes, so I can be on my way. I don't want Jill to get to the island before me."
He dove toward the sled. But Tsh't remained behind for a moment. Although the air in her lungs was growing stale, she lay still, watching him swim away.
Her sonar clicks swept over him as he descended. She caressed him with her hearing, and sang a quiet requiem.
They cast their nets to catch us- Those of Iki, Yet you are there- To cut the nets.
Good Walker; Always, You cut the nets- Though they'll take In payment Your life ...
26 ::: Creideiki The most formal Anglic, spoken carefully by a neo-dolphin, would be difficult for a human raised only in Man-English to understand. The syntax and many root words were the same. But a pre-s.p.a.ceflight Londoner would have found the sounds as strange as the voices that spoke them.
The dolphin's modified blowhole provided whistles, squawks, vowels and a few consonants. Sonar clicks and many other sounds came from complex resonant cavities inside the skull.
In speech, these separate contributions were sometimes in phase and sometimes not. Even at the best of times, there were stretched sibilants, stuttered t's, and groaned vowels. Speech was an art.
Trinary was for relaxation, for imagery and personal matters. It replaced and greatly expanded on Primal Dolphin. But Anglic linked the neo-dolphin to the world of cause and effect.
Anglic was a language of compromise between the vocal abilities of two races-between the hands-and-fire world of Men and the drifting legends of the Whale Dream. Speaking it, a dolphin could equal most humans in a.n.a.lytic thought, consider past and future, make schemes, use tools, and fight wars.
Some thoughtful humans wondered if giving the cetacean Anglic had really been much of a favor, after all.
Two neo-dolphins alone together might speak Anglic for concentration, but not care if the sounds resembled English words. They would drift into frequencies beyond human hearing, and consonants would virtually disappear.
Keneenk allowed this. It was the semantics that counted. If the grammar, the two-level logic, the time-orientation were Anglic, pragmatic results were all that mattered.
When Creideiki took Hikahi's report, he purposely spoke a very relaxed form of fin-Anglic. By example he wanted to say that what went on here was private.
He listened to her while he took the kinks out of his body, diving and racing back and forth across the exercise pool. Hikahi recited her report on the planetology meeting, enjoying the sweet smell of real air in her main lungs. Occasionally, she paused and sped alongside him for a stretch before continuing.
Right now her words sounded nothing like human speech, but a very good voicewriter could have translated them.
"He feels very strongly about it, Captain. In fact, Charlie suggests that we should leave a small study team here with the longboat even if Streaker tries to escape. Even Brookida is tempted by the idea. I was a bit stunned."
Creideiki pa.s.sed in front of her. He burst out a quick question.
"And what would they do if we left them behind, and we were then captured?" He dove back underwater and sped on toward the far wall.
"Charlie thinks he and a detached team could be declared noncombatants, and the Sudman-Sah'ot group out on the island, as well. He says there are precedents. That way, whether we get away or not, part of the mission is preserved."
The exercise room was in Streakers centrifugal ring, ten degrees up the side of the wheel. The walls were canted and Creideiki had to watch out for shallows in the pool's port side. A cl.u.s.ter of b.a.l.l.s, rings, and complex toys floated to starboard.
Creideiki swam quickly under a cl.u.s.ter of b.a.l.l.s and shot out of the water. He spun as he sailed through the air and landed on his back with a splash. He did a flip underwater, then rose up above the surface on his churning tail. Breathing heavily, he regarded Hikahi with one eye.
"I've considered the idea already," he said. "We could leave Metz and his records, too. Getting him off our tails would be worth thirty herring and an anchovy dessert."
He settled back down into the water. "Too bad the solution is immoral and impractical."
Hikahi looked puzzled, trying to figure his meaning.
Creideiki felt much better. The frustration which had built to a peak when he listened to Tom Orley's message had now abated. He could put aside, for a while, the depression he felt when he agreed to the man's plan.
All that remained was to get the formal advice of the ship's council. He prayed they'd come up with a better idea, though he doubted they would.
"Think," he asked his lieutenant. "Declaring noncombatants might work if we are killed or captured, but what if we escape, and draw our ET friends chasing after us?"
Hikahi's jaw dropped open slightly-a borrowed human mannerism. "Of course. I hear it. Kths.e.m.e.nee is so very isolated. There are only a few routes in and out. The longboat probably couldn't make it back to civilization all alone."
"Which would mean?"
"They would become castaways, on a deadly planet, with minimal medical facilities. Forgive my lack of foresight."
She turned slightly, presenting her left ventral fin. It was a civilized version of an ancient gesture of submission, such as a human student's sheepish bowed head to his teacher.
With luck, Hikahi would someday command ships greater than Streaker by orders of magnitude. The captain and teacher within him was pleased with her combination of modesty and cleverness. But another part of him had more immediate goals for her.
"Well, we'll take their idea under advis.e.m.e.nt. In case we have to adopt the plan quickly, see to stocking the longboat.
"But put a guard on it, too."
They both knew that it was a bad sign, when security precautions had to be taken within, as well as without.
A brightly striped rubber ring floated past them. Creideiki felt an urge to chase it ... as he wanted to push Hikahi into a corner and nuzzle her until ... He shook himself.
"As for further tectonic research," he said. "That's out of the question. Gillian Baskin has left for your island, to take supplies to Thomas Orley and to help Dennie Sudman study the aboriginals. When she returns, she can bring back rock samples for Charlie. That'll have to satisfy him.
"The rest of us will be very busy as soon as Suessi gets back here with those spare parts."
"Suessi's sure he found what we need at the wreck?"
"Fairly certain."
"This new plan means we'll have to move Streaker. Turning on our engines may give us away. But I guess there's no choice. I'll get started on a plan to move the ship."
Creideiki realized that this was getting him nowhere. A few hours remained, at most, until Suessi arrived, and here he was talking to Hikahi in Anglic ... forcing her by example to think rigidly and carefully! No wonder he was getting no hint, no body language, no suggestion that an advance might be welcomed or rejected.
He answered her in Trinary.
We'll only move her- Below water To the crashed ship- Empty, waiting Soon, while battles- Still wrack the blackness Filling s.p.a.ce- With squid-like racket At a time when- Orley, Net-bane, Far away, does Make Distraction Far away, does Truth Decipher Drawing sharks- To make us safer *
Hikahi stared at him. This was the first time she had heard about that part of Orley's plan. Like many of the females aboard, Hikahi had a platonic pa.s.sion for Thomas Orley.
I should have broken the news more gently, or, better yet, waited until later!
Her eyes blinked, once, twice, then closed. She sank slowly, and from her forehead melon came a faint keening.
Creideiki envied humans their enfolding arms. He dropped alongside her to touch her with the tip of his bottle-shaped rostrum.
Do not grieve for- Strong-eyed flyer Orley's song shall- By whales be sung Hikahi replied sadly.
I, Hikahi- Honor Orley Honor captain- Honor crewmates Deeds are done, still- For one I suffer- For Jill Baskin- Dear Life-Cleaner For her loss- And body sorrow *
Shamed, Creideiki felt an enclosing shroud of melancholy fall around him. He shut his own eyes and the waters echoed back to him a shared sadness.
For a long time they lay side by side, rising to breathe, then settling once more below.
Creideiki's thoughts were far away when he finally felt Hikahi drift away. But then she was back, rubbing gently against his side, and then nibbling tenderly with sharp, small teeth.
Almost against his will, at first, Creideiki felt his enthusiasm begin to return. He rolled over to his side and let out a long sigh of bubbles as her nuzzling became more provocative.
The water began to taste happier then, as Hikahi crooned a familiar song, taken from one of the oldest of Primal signals. It seemed to say, amongst other things, "Life goes on."
27 ::: The Island The night was quiet.
Kithrup's many small moons stirred low tides against the metal cliffs a hundred meters away. The ever-present winds, driven without brake across the planet ocean, tugged at the trees and ruled the foliage.
Still, compared to what they had known for months, the silence was heavy. There were none of the ubiquitous machine sounds which had followed them everywhere from Earth, the unceasing whirrs and clicks of mechanical function, or the occasional smoking crackle of failure.
The squeaking, groaning drone of dolphin conversation was gone, too. Even Keepiru and Sah'ot were absent. At night the two dolphins accompanied the Kithrup aboriginals in their nocturnal sea hunt.
The surface of the metal-mound was almost too quiet. The few sounds seemed to carry forever. The sea, the distant rumble of a faraway volcano ...
There was a gentle moan in the night, followed by a very quiet gasping cry.
"They're at it again," Dennie sighed, not particularly caring if Toshio heard her.
The sounds came from the clearing at the southern point of the island. The third and fourth humans on the island had tried to find their privacy as far from the abo village and the tunnel pool as possible. Dennie wished they could have gone even farther away.
There was laughter, faint but clear.
"I've never heard anything like it," she sighed.
Toshio blushed and fed another stick to the fire. The couple in the next clearing deserved their privacy. He considered pointing this out to Dennie.
"I swear, they're like minks!" Dennie said, intending to sound sardonic and mock-envious. But it came out just a little bitter.
Toshio noticed. Against his better judgment, he said, "Dennie, we all know that humans are among the s.e.xual athletes of the galaxy, though some of our clients give us a run for it."
Toshio poked a stick into the fire. That had been a pretty brash thing to say. He felt a trifle emboldened by the night, and the desire to break the tension by the fire.
"What do you mean by that?" Dennie looked at him sharply.
Toshio played with the stick. "We-ell, there's a line in an old play, ... 'Why, your dolphin was not l.u.s.tier!' Shakespeare wasn't the first to compare the two h.o.r.n.i.e.s.t of the brainy mammals; y'know I don't suppose anyone's come up with a scale to measure it, but I'd have to wonder if it weren't a prerequisite for intelligence.
"Of course, that's only one of the possibilities. If you take what the Galactics say about uplift into account ..."
He rambled on, slowly drawing away from incitement, noticing how Dennie came this close to blowing her cool, before she turned and looked away.
He'd done it! He had played a round and won it! It was a minor victory in a game he had wondered if he would ever get to play.
The art of teasing had always been a one-sided affair to Toshio, and he'd always had the short end. To get the best of an attractive older woman by dint of clever conversation and character insight was a coup.
He didn't think he was being cruel, though a genteel cruelty did seem to be part of the game. All he knew for certain was that this was one way to get Dennie Sudman to treat him less like a child. If some of the easy mutual liking they'd had before had to suffer for it, that was too bad.