Uplift - Startide Rising Part 9

From ahead there came a sudden, high-pitched whine of engines; then three white power sleds sped from the outlock hatch, single-file. They veered, one by one, around Dennie and D'Anite before either of them could move, leaving fizzing trails of supercritical bubbles in their wakes.

Strapped to the back of each, under a plastic sh.e.l.l, was an injured dolphin. Two of them had dreadful gashes in their flanks, crudely bandaged. Dennie blinked in surprise when she saw that one of them was Hikahi, Streakers third officer.

The ambulance sleds banked under the central spine and headed for an opening in the inner wall of the great cylinder. On the last sled, clutching a handrail, the dusky blonde who had accompanied them here allowed herself to be dragged along. With her free hand she pressed a diagnostic monitor to the flank of one of the wounded dolphins.

"No wonder Gillian was in such a hurry. It was stupid of me to slow her down."

"Oh, don't worry about it." Emerson held her arm. "The injuries didn't look like the kind you'd need a human surgeon for. Makanee and the autodocs can handle almost anything, you know"

"Still, there may be biochemical damage ... poisons ... I might be of use."

She turned to go, but the engineer's hand held her.

"You'll be called if it's anything Makanee or feMister Baskin can't handle. And I don't think you'll want to miss out on news that bears on your specialty."

Dennie looked after the ambulances, then nodded. Emerson was right. If she was needed, an intercom call would reach her anywhere, and a sled would arrive to fetch her faster than she could swim. They swam toward the buzzing of excited cetaceans in the outlock bay, and entered the forward chamber amid a swirl of swooping gray forms and a ferment of flying bubbles.

The forward outlock at Streakers bow was the s.h.i.+p's main link with the outside. The cylindrical wall was covered by storage cells, holding spiders, sleds, and other gear for crew who might leave the s.h.i.+p on errands. The bow had three great airlocks.

Port and starboard, the s.p.a.cious chamber was taken up by the skiff and the longboat. The nose of each small s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p almost touched the iris that would let it outside, into vacuum, air, or water, as needed.

The stern of the skiff stopped short of the rear bulkhead of the twenty-meter outlock, but the aft end of the larger longboat disappeared into a sleeve that extended into the maze of rooms and pa.s.sages in Streakers thick cylindrical sh.e.l.l.

Overhead, a third berthing port lay empty. The captain's gig had been lost to a strange accident weeks before, along with ten crew members, at the region Creideiki had named the Shallow Cl.u.s.ter. Its loss, in the course of investigating the derelict fleet, was a topic seldom brought up in conversation.

Dennie gripped D'Anite's arm as another sled pa.s.sed by more slowly than the white ambulances of sick bay. Sealed green bags were tied to its back. A bottle-like narrowness at one end of each, and a flat flaring at the other, revealed their contents.

There's no smaller bag, Dennie thought. Does that mean Tos.h.i.+o's alive then? Then she saw, by the decontamination lock, a young drysuited human in a crowd of dolphins.

"There's Tos.h.i.+o!" she cried, a little surprised at the intensity of her relief. She forced herself to speak in a calm tone. "Is that Keepiru next to him?" She pointed.

D'Anite nodded. "Yeah. They seem all right. By my count I guess that means Hist't hitched a sky-current. That's a rotten shame. We got along." Emerson's affected burr was completely gone as he mourned the loss of a friend.

He peered through the crowd. "Can you think of an official enough reason for us to shove in there? Most of the fen would get out of our way out of habit. But Creideiki's something else. He'll chew our a.s.ses off, patrons or no, if he thinks were hanging around useless and getting in the way."

Dennie had been thinking about just that. "Leave it to me." She led him into the jostling crowd, touching flipper and fluke to pry a pa.s.sage through the press. Most of the fen moved to one side on catching a glimpse of the two humans.

Dennie looked about the squeaking, clicking mob. Shouldn't Tom Orley be here? she thought. He and Hannes and Tsh't were in on the rescue, weren't they? So why don't I see him anywhere? I've got to talk to him sometime soon!

Tos.h.i.+o looked like a very tired young man. Just out of decon, he slowly peeled off his drysuit as he spoke with Creideiki. Soon he floated naked but for a facemask. Dabs of synthetic skin coated his hands and throat and face. Keepiru drifted nearby. The exhausted dolphin wore a breather, probably under physician's orders.

Suddenly the spectators blocking Dennie's view began to spin about and dart away in all directions.

... bands of idle gawkers- cease their vain eavesdropping!

Lest the nets of Iki find them- for their lack of work and purpose!

The sudden cetacean dispersal buffeted Dennie and Emerson; in moments the crowd had thinned.

"Do not-t make me repeat myself!" Creideiki reiterated. His voice pursued the fleeing s.p.a.cers. "All is done in here. Think clear thoughts and do your jobs!"

A dozen fen remained near the captain and Tos.h.i.+o: outlock personnel and the captain's aides. Creideiki turned to Tos.h.i.+o. "Go on then, little shark-biter, finish your story"

The boy blushed, nonplussed by the honorific. He forced his heavy eyelids open and tried to maintain a semblance of standard posture in the drifting current.

"Uh, I think that's about it, sir. I've told you everything Mr. Orley and Tsh't told me about their plans. If the ET wreck looks usable, they'll send a sled back with a report. If not, they'll return with whatever they've salvaged as quickly as possible."

Creideiki made small slow circles with his lower jaw. "A hazardousss gamble," he commented. "They'll not reach the hulk for a day, at least. More days, still, will pa.s.s without contact ..."

Bubbles rose from his blowmouth.

"Very well, then. You shall rest, then join me for supper. I'm afraid your reward for saving Hikahi for us, and possibly all of our lives as well, shall be an interrogation the likes of which you might not even receive from our enemies."

Tos.h.i.+o smiled tiredly.

"I understand, sir. I'll happily let you wring me of information, just so long as I can eat first ... and get dry for a while!"

"Done. Until then!" The captain nodded and turned to go.

Dennie was about to shout to Creideiki when someone else called out first.

"Captain, please! May I have a word?"

The voice was musical. The speaker was a large male dolphin with the mottled gray coloration of one of the Stenos sub-breeds. He wore a civilian harness, without the bulky racks or heavy manipulator arms carried by the regular crew.

Dennie felt a strong urge to hide behind Emerson D'Anite. She hadn't noticed Sah'ot in the crowd until he spoke.

"Before you go, sir," the dolphin fluted. His tone of voice was quite casual. "I must a.s.ssk you for permission to go to that island where Hikahi was stranded."

With a tail-flick Creideiki arched over bottom side up to regard the speaker. He addressed the fin skeptically. "Talker-to-races, this is not a fishbrew bar, this island, where poetry can buy back an error. Why venture now courage you never before displayed?"

Sah'ot lay still for a moment. In spite of her dislike of the civilian specialist, Dennie felt sympathy rise within her. Sah'ot's behavior at the derelict fleet, in refusing to go along with the doomed survey party, had not been admirable. He had acted like a prima-donna.

But he had been proven right. The captain's gig and ten fine crew members had been lost, along with Streakers former second in command.

All the sacrifice had gained them was a three-meter-long tube of some strange metal, thoroughly pitted by ages of micrometeorite impacts. It had been recovered personally by Thomas Orley. Gillian Baskin had taken over the sealed relic, and to Dennie's knowledge n.o.body else had seen it since. It hardly seemed worth the loss they had suffered.

"Captain," Sah'ot addressed Creideiki, "I believe that there is a matter that even Thomas Orley could not have had time to cover in detail. He has gone on to investigate the wrecked wars.h.i.+p, but the island still does concern us."

No fair! Dennie had been ready to do this! It was to be an act of professionalism-of a.s.sertion, to speak out and demand ....

"Honestly Captain," Sah'ot went on, "after our duty to escape this trap, and to serve the clan of Earth species, what is the most important responsibility that has fallen upon uss?"

Creideiki looked torn. He obviously wanted to chew Sah'ot's dorsal fin for baiting him like this. Also, obviously, Sah'ot had hit him with a double harpoon ... mentioning the word "duty," and lacing it into a riddle. The captain thrashed his tail, giving out a low series of broad-band sonar clicks, like a watch ticking. His eyes were recessed and dark.

Dennie couldn't wait for the captain to figure the puzzle, or slap Sah'ot into a cell.

"The abos!" she shouted.

Creideiki turned and regarded her. Dennie blushed as she felt his field of a.n.a.lytic sound sweep over her. She knew the waves penetrated her very viscera, telling everything down to what she had had for breakfast. Creideiki frightened her. She felt very far from being patron to the powerful and involute mind behind that broad forehead.

The captain suddenly whirled about and swam to Tos.h.i.+o. "You still have those artifactsss that Thomas Orley selected, young hunter?"

"Yes, sir, I ..."

"You will please lend them to Biologist Sudman and Race Speaker Sah'ot before you retire. When you've rested, collect them again, along with the specialists' recommendations. I will examine them myself during supper."

Tos.h.i.+o nodded. The captain flipped to face Dennie.

"Before I give permission, you must have a plan. You'll get little material a.s.sistance from me, and you will be recalled at any sign of danger. Can you accept these conditions?"

"Y yes ... we'll need a monofilament cable to the s.h.i.+p, for a computer link, and ..."

"Talk this over with Keepiru, before he rests. He must help you come up with something militarily acceptable."

"Keepiru? But I thought ..." Dennie looked at the younger dolphin, and quickly bit back the tactlessness she had been about to utter. Silently wearing his breather, the pilot seemed unhappier than ever.

"I have my reasons, femsir. As a pilot, he is of little use while we are immobile. I can spare him from the work here, to be your field liaison ... if I agree to your plan."

The captain's attention made Keepiru hunch slightly and look away. Tos.h.i.+o put a hand on Keepiru's sleek back. That, too, was a change. The two had never struck Dennie as fast friends before.

Creideiki's teeth shone in the bright lights of the bay.

"Is there more comment-t?"

Everyone was silent.

Creideiki thrashed his tail, then whistled the phrase of command termination. He arched and sped away with rapid, powerful strokes. His aides followed in his wake.

Keepiru watched until his captain pa.s.sed out of sight. Then he addressed Dennie and Sah'ot.

At your service, you will find me- In my quarters, floating, breathing- After seeing Tos.h.i.+o resting. ... *

Tos.h.i.+o smiled when Dennie gave him a brief hug. Then he turned to swim away, arm over Keepiru's back, keeping to the fin's slow pace.

Just then one of the intrahull lift tubes opened and a blue and yellow shape bulleted out of the tube. A joyful racket filled the chamber as the s.h.i.+p's other mids.h.i.+pman speared past Keepiru and the boy, then zoomed around them in ever-tightening circles, chattering excitedly.

"Do you really think Tos.h.i.+o's going to get any sleep?" Emerson asked.

"Not if Akki makes him tell the entire story before he has supper with the captain." Dennie envied Akki and Tos.h.i.+o their fellows.h.i.+p, as constant and intense as any star. She watched the boy laughing as he fended off his friend until they disappeared into the tube.

"Well, sister," Emerson D'Anite grinned at Dennie. "It appears you have a science command. My congratulations."

"Nothing's decided yet," she answered. "Besides, Keepiru will be in charge."

"Keepiru will have military command. That part confuses me a bit. I don't know where Creideiki's aiming, a.s.signing Keepiru that job after the way I hear he behaved out there. My guess is it's his way of getting the poor dollie out of his hai ... hide."

Dennie had to agree, though she thought it a bit cruel.

She suddenly felt a smooth, flat touch on the inner part of her left thigh. She yelped and whirled around with her hand at her throat; then sighed when she saw that it was the neo-dolphin anthropologist, Sah'ot, who had slipped in his left pectoral fin to goose her. The Stenos gave her an uneven grin. His rough teeth shone brightly.

Dennie's heart pounded. "Shark-breath! Doggerel-rhymer! Go make love to an unwashed specimen bottle!" Her voice cracked.

Sah'ot reared back, his eyes momentarily white-rimmed in surprise. Apparently he hadn't expected Dennie to be so high-strung.

"Aw, Dennie," Sah'ot sighed. "I was jussst trying to thank you for interceding with Creideiki. Obviously your charms are more persuasive to him than any arguments I might raise. Sorry if I sstartled you."

Dennie sniffed at Sah'ot's double-edged apology. Still, her reaction might have been overdrawn. Her pulse slowly settled. "Oh ... never mind. Just don't you sneak up on me like that!"

Without even turning around, she could feel Emerson D'Anite grinning behind his hand. Males, she thought. Do they ever grow up?

"Um, Dennie?" Sah'ot's voice crooned like a string trio. "There is one small matter we have to discuss, if we are going to be going on this expedition to the island together. Will you be churlish and let Creideiki choose the science commander on the basis of prejudice? Or will you give me a chance? Maybe we can wrestle for it-t-t?"

D'Anite started coughing. He turned the other way and cleared his throat.

Dennie blushed. "We'll let the captain decide what's best. Besides ... I'm not sure both of us should go. Charlie told me his a.n.a.lysis of the planetary crust samples may be of interest to you ... there are traces of paleotechnology in recent layers. You ought to go see him right away."

Sah'ot's eyelids narrowed. "That isss interesting. I'd thought this planet was fallow far longer than would allow paleotech-ch remnants."

But he dashed Dennie's hopes. "Ala.s.ss. Digging for long-toasted garbage of past Kithrupan civilizations cannot be half as important as making contact with pre-sentients and establis.h.i.+ng a proper patron claim for you humans. We fins might have new client cousins before even neo-dogs are finished! Heaven help the poor creatures if the Tandu or Soro or similar ilk collect them!

"Besides," he soothed, "this is a chance for us to get to know each other better ... and exchange professional information, of course."

Emerson D'Anite had to cough again.

"I've left the repairs for too long already, kids," he said. His burr was back in force. "I think I'll be gettin' on back to my engines, and let you two discuss your plans."

D'Anite's grin was barely suppressed. Dennie swore eventual revenge. "Emerson!" she hissed.

"Yes, la.s.s?" He looked back at her innocently.

She glared, "Oh ... I'll bet you haven't a drop of Celtic blood in your body!"

The dark engineer smiled at her. "Why, bairn, didn' ya know? All Scots are engineers, and all engineers are Scots." He waved and swam off before Dennie could think of a reply. Trapped, she cursed, by a cliche!

When D'Anite was out of earshot Sah'ot sidled close to Dennie. "Shall we start planning our expedition?" His blowmouth was near her ear.

Dennie started. Suddenly she noticed that everyone had gone. Dennie's heart beat faster, and her facemask seemed not to be giving her enough air.

"Not here we won't!" She spun away and began swimming. "Let's go to the wardroom. There are plotting boards ... and airdomes! A man can breathe there!"

Sah'ot kept pace with her, uncomfortably close.

"Aw, Dennie ..." he said, but he didn't press. Instead, he began to sing a low, atonal, hybrid melody in a complex and obscure dialect of Trinary.

Against her will, Dennie found herself drawn into the song. It was strange, and eerily beautiful, and it took her several minutes to realize that it was also dirty as h.e.l.l.