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Authors: David Brin

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction

Startide Rising (52 page)

BOOK: Startide Rising
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Charlie smiled weakly. “Yeah, well, it’s too late to stop it from happening, so I figure you oughta know so it doesn’t surprise you.”

Something about the way he said it made Toshio feel uneasy. “Tell me,” he said.

Charlie looked at his watch. “The robot will be where I want it in eighty minutes.” He glanced up at Toshio a little nervously. “Then my bomb goes off.”

Toshio fell back against the bole of a tree. “Oh, great, that’s all we need…”

“I was gonna tell Takkata-Jim just before, so we could hover when it exploded,” Charlie explained sheepishly. “I wouldn’t worry too much, though. I looked over Dennie’s map of the cavern below the island. I’d say there’s at least even money the mound won’t fall in, but, you know…” He spread his hands.

Toshio sighed. They were going to die anyway. Fortunately, this latest twist didn’t seem to have any cosmic implications.

 

::: Streaker

W
e’re ready.” He made the announcement quite matter-of-factly.

Gillian looked up from the holo display. Hannes Suessi gave Gillian a two-fingered salute from the door jamb. Light from the bright hallway cast a stark trapezoid onto the floor of the dimly lit room.

“The impedance matchings …?” she asked.

“All darn near perfect. In fact, when we get back to Earth I’m going to suggest we buy a bunch of old hulls from the Thennanin to refit all Snarks with. We’ll be slow, doubly so because of all the water in the central bay, but Streaker will lift, fly, and warp. And it’ll take a hell of a punch to pound through the outer shell.”

Gillian put one foot on the desk. “There’s still a lot of punch out there, Hannes.”

“She’ll fly. As for the rest…” The engineer shrugged. “The only constraint I’d suggest is that you let the engineering staff get an hour or so under sleep machines if you don’t want us sagging on takeoff: Other than that, it’s up to you now, Madame Captain.”

He stopped her before she could speak. “And don’t go looking to us for any advice either, Gillian. You’ve been doing too good a job so far, and neither Tsh’t nor I are going to say anything but aye aye, sir, and jump when you say so.”

Gillian closed her eyes and nodded. “All right,” she said softly.

Hannes looked through the open door from her office to Gillian’s laboratory. He knew about the ancient cadaver. He had been there to help Tom Orley bring it back into the ship.

He saw a glimpse of a silhouette suspended within a glass case. He shivered and turned away.

Gillian’s holo display showed a small, Ping-Pong-ball sized representation of Kithrup, and a scattering of small BBs as the planet’s moons. Two clusters of blue and red dots were accompanied by tiny computer-code letters suspended in space.

“Don’t seem like too many of the nasty buggers are left,” Suessi commented.

“Those are just the ships in nearby space. The expanded view, about a cubic astron, shows two still substantial Galactic squadrons. We can’t actually identify the fleets, of course, but the battle computer assigns colors on the basis of movement. They’re still changing alliances out there.

“Also, there’s a plethora of survivors hiding out on the moons.”

Suessi pursed his lips. Almost he asked the question that was on everyone’s mind, but he bit it back. Gillian answered anyway.

“There’s still been no word from Tom.” She looked at her hands. “Until now we didn’t really have any use for the information, but now…” She paused.

“But now we’ve got to know whether taking off would be suicide.” Suessi finished her thought. He noticed Gillian was studying the display again.

“You’re trying to figure it out for yourself, aren’t you?”

Gillian shrugged. “Go get that hour, Hannes, or three, or ten. Tell your fen to take their naps at their stations, and toggle their sleep machines to the bridge.”

She frowned as she looked at the drifting dots. “I may be wrong. We may wind up choosing the lesser evil—hiding down here until our gums start turning blue from metal poisoning or we starve. But I have a feeling, a hunch, we may have to act soon.” She shook her head.

“What about Toshio and Hikahi and the others?”

Gillian did not answer. No answer was necessary. After a moment Suessi turned and left. He closed the door behind him.

Dots. No more could be resolved by Streaker’s passive sensors than drifting dots that occasionally came together in sparkling swarms and separated smaller in number. The battle computer went over the patterns and drew tentative conclusions. But the answer she needed was never there. “Would the surviving fleets be indifferent to the sudden reappearance of a long-lost Thennanin cruiser, or would they join forces to swat it out of the sky?” The decision lay with her. Never had Gillian felt so alone.

“Where are you, boy? You live, I know. I can feel your distant breath. What are you doing right now?”

To her left a green light started flashing. “Yes,” she told the comm link.

“Dr. Bassskin!” It was the voice of Wattaceti, calling from the bridge. “Hikahi callsss! She is at-t the relay! And she has Creideiki!”

“Put her through!”

There was a hiss as the operator raised the gain on the attenuated signal.

“Gillian? Is that-t you?”

“Yes, Hikahi. Thank God! Are you all right? And Creideiki’s still at the relay?”

“We are both quite well, Life-Cleaner. From what the fen on the bridge tell usss, you don’t seem to need us there at all!”

“They’re damned patron-sucking liars! And I wouldn’t trade a one of them away for my left arm. Listen, we’re missing five crewfen. You should be warned, two are atavistic and highly dangerous.”

The line hissed for a long moment. Then, “All are accounted for, Gillian,” came the reply at last. “Four of them are dead.”

Gillian covered her eyes. “Dear Lord…”

“Keepiru is with usss,” Hikahi answered her unasked question.

“Poor Akki,” Gillian sighed.

“Send word to Calafia that he did his duty. Keepiru says he was defiant and sentient till the end.”

Gillian did not like the implication of Hikahi’s message. “Hikahi, you’re in command now. We need you back here now. I am this instant officially handing over…”

“Don’t, Gillian,” the fluting voice interrupted. “Please. Not yet-t. There are still things to be done with the skiff. Those on the island must be recovered, and the Kiqui volunteers.”

“I’m not sure we’ll have time, Hikahi.” The words were bitter as she spoke them. She thought of bright, ever self-deprecating Dennie Sudman, of the erudite Sah’ot, and Toshio, so very young and noble.

“Has T-Tom called? Is there an emergency?”

“Neither, yet. But…”

“Then what-t?”

She couldn’t explain. She tried in Trinary.

 

* What a piercing sound I hear—

* The peal of bugles, engines rising—

* The tears of love abandoned—

* Soon, so very soon—*

 

There was a long silence from the skiff. Then, it was not Hikahi’s voice, but Creideiki’s, that answered. In his repetitious, simply-phrased Trinary, there was something Gillian could only catch a hint of, something deep and a little eerie.

 

* Sounds, All Sounds

Answer Something

Answer Something :

* Acts, All Acts

Make Sounds

Make Sounds :

* But Duty, All Duty

Calls Silently

Calls Silently :

 

Gillian didn’t breathe as she listened to Creideiki’s last note fall away. Her spine was chilled.

“ ‘Bye, Gillian,” Hikahi said. “You do what you have to. We’ll be back as quick-kly as we can. But don’t wait for usss.”

“Hikahi!” Gillian reached for the comm link, but the carrier wave cut off before she could say another word.

 

::: Toshio

B
oth airlocks are bolted from the inside,” Toshio panted when he returned to the hiding place. “Looks like we try it your way.”

Charles Dart nodded, and led him to the impulse thrusters at the stern of the small spacecraft.

Twice they had hidden themselves by climbing tall trees as the patrolling Stenos passed below. It seemed not to occur to the mad fen to look above for their quarry. But Toshio knew they’d be deadly if they ever caught him and Charlie in the open.

Charlie removed the rear cover to the maintenance bay between the engines. “I got in by crawling between the feedlines, over there, until I reached the access plate in that bulkhead.” He pointed. Toshio peered into the maze of pipes.

He looked back at Dart, amazed. “No wonder nobody expected a stowaway. Is this how you got into the armory, as well? By climbing through ducts where no human could fit?”

The planetologist nodded. “I guess you can’t go in with me. That means I gotta get the little critters out by myself, right?”

Toshio nodded. “I think they’re in the aft hold. Here’s the voder.”

He handed over the translator. It looked like a large medallion hanging from a neck-chain. All neo-chimps knew about voders, since they generally had trouble talking until the age of three. Charlie slipped it over his head. He started to climb into the small opening, but stopped and looked sidelong at the middie.

“Say Toshio. Imagine this was one of those 20th-century ‘zoo’ ships, and those are a bunch of pre-sentient chimps in the hold of a clipper ship—or whatever they used back then—on their way from Africa to some laboratory or circus. Would you have snuck in to rescue them?”

Toshio shrugged. “I don’t honestly know, Charlie. I’d like to think I would’ve. But I really don’t know what I’d’ve done.”

The neo-chimp met the human’s eyes for a long instant, then he grunted. “Okay, you guard the rear.”

He took a boost from Toshio and squirmed into the mechanical maze. Toshio squatted beneath the thruster tubes and listened to the forest. While Charlie struggled to get the inner access plate off, he made what felt like a terrible racket. Then it stopped.

Toshio slid into the forest to make a cautious circuit of the immediate area.

From crashing sounds up in the direction of the Kiqui village, he guessed the Stenos were amusing themselves with a destructive spree. He hoped none of the little natives had come back yet to witness, or worse, be caught in the violence.

He returned to the longboat and looked at his watch. Seventeen minutes until the bomb went off. They were cutting it close.

He reached into the maintenance area and spent a few minutes twiddling with some of the valves, spoiling their settings. Of course, Takkata-Jim didn’t need the thrusters at all. If he was, indeed, refueled, he could take off on gravities. Leaving the access panel loose would decrease the boat’s aerodynamic stability, but even that effect would be slight. Longboats like these were built rugged.

He stopped and listened. The rampage through the forest was heading this way again. The fen were on their way back.

“Hurry up, Charlie!” He fingered the grip of his holstered needler, not certain he could aim well enough to hit the vulnerable patches where the dolphins were unprotected by the metal-sided spiders.

“Come on!”

There came a series of small, wet, slapping sounds from within the cavity. Intermittent squeaks echoed from the narrow confines, and then he saw a pair of widely splayed, green-finned hands.

They were followed by the head of a rather distressed looking Kiqui. The aboriginal scuttled through the inner panel and crept through the maze of pipes until it leapt into Toshio’s arms.

Toshio had to peel the frightened creature loose and put it down in order to reach for the next one. The little Kiqui were making a fearful racket, squeaking dolefully.

Finally all four were out. Toshio peered inside and saw Charles Dart trying to replace the inner panel.

“Never mind that!” Toshio hissed.

“I gotta! Takkata-Jim’ll notice the change in air pressure on his panel! It’s only luck he hasn’t yet!”

“Come on! They’re…” He heard the whine of waldo motors and crushed vegetation. “They’re here! I’m going to draw them away from you. Good luck, Charlie!”

“Wait!”

Toshio crawled a few meters into the shrubbery so they would not guess where he came from. Then, from a crouch start, he ran.

 

# There! There!

# Whaler!

# Iki-netman!

# Tuna follower!

# There! Kill! There! #

The Stenos squawked from very close nearby. Toshio dove behind an oli-nut tree as bolts of blue death sizzled overhead. The Kiqui screamed and scattered into the forest.

Toshio rolled to his feet and ran, trying to keep the tree between him and his pursuers.

He heard sounds to the left and right as the fen moved quickly to surround him. His drysuit slowed him down as he tried to reach the shore cliffs before the circle was closed.

 

::: Tom Orley

H
e spent a while listening to the radio, but, although he recognized a few species-types in the voices, so much of the traffic was inter-computer that there was little to be learned that way.

All right, he told himself. Let’s work out the proper phrasing. This had better be good.

 

::: The Skiff

D
ennie stumbled over the words she had so carefully prepared. She tried to rephrase her arguments, but Hikahi stopped her.

“Dr. Sudman. You needn’t persissst! Our next stop is the island anyway. We’ll pick up Toshio if he hasn’t left already. And perhaps we’ll deal with Takkata-Jim, as well. We’ll be on our way as soon as Creideiki finishes.”

Dennie exhaled all of her remaining tension. It was out of her hands, then. The professionals would take care of things. She might as well relax.

“How long…?”

Hikahi tossed her head. “Creideiki doesn’t expect to do any better this time than lassst. It shouldn’t take long. Why don’t you and Sah’ot go and rest in the meantime?”

Dennie nodded and turned to find some space to stretch out in the tiny hold.

BOOK: Startide Rising
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