Andy thought for a moment, then replied, “My two legs work fine on land.”
Now Baby fell silent. Andy watched her circle around him, then go up to the surface for a gulp of air. When she came back she said, “Water better. No fish on land.”
Deirdre watched the display screen as the enlarged image of a
The microscopically small green sphere was in the process of reproducing. Deirdre watched, fascinated as always, while the creature’s cells began to fission, splitting into specialized gonadal cells, male and female.
No privacy for you, she thought. It seemed silly to be studying these microscopic algae in hopes of learning more about the gigantic leviathans. Then she remembered that Dr. Archer had also asked her to look at the images that the leviathans displayed on their mammoth flanks. Pictures, Deirdre thought. He believes the leviathans communicate through pictures. And he wants me to interpret them for him.
With a resolute shake of her head she told herself, It’s crazy. He’s grasping at straws, just like he said. Looking back at the screen’s display of the reproducing
The new cells were faithfully arranging themselves into a another colony, but—as usual—the cilia that propelled the colony through the water were on the inside of the newly created sphere. Deirdre leaned forward intently, watching as the spherical creature dutifully turned itself inside out, and the cilia began chugging away, moving the newcomer out of the microscope’s field of view.
Turning to the smaller readout screen beneath the main display, Deirdre saw that the sensors had acquired the data she needed: a detailed list of the chemicals that flooded the interior of the colony’s tiny sphere. Those chemicals were what triggered the reproductive phase, she knew. They guided the tiny creature’s creation of a new version of itself: the microbial analog of the pheromones that trigger human reproduction.
“Gotcha,” she murmured, with a satisfied smile.
The galley was crowded when Deirdre arrived, but none of her usual friends were in sight. She picked up a tray and took a salad and a mug of fruit juice, then found a table for herself. Before she could sit down, though, she saw Andy Corvus enter the galley, looking glum despite the garish orange slacks and emerald green pullover he was wearing.
She waved to him and waited while he packed his tray with a vegetarian lunch and sauntered over to her.
“How’s it going?” Deirdre asked as Andy sat down.
He made a loose-jointed shrug. “Baby talks to me, but I’m not getting any new information, really. Not adding to the vocabulary.”
“Maybe there’s nothing more to get,” she said. “Maybe you’ve got their entire language down.”
“I’d hate to think that. They’re smart, Dee. They must have more in their minds than just fish and water temperatures.”
She said nothing, stuck a fork into her salad.
Corvus’s phone jangled. Frowning, he pulled it from his shirt pocket. “This is Corvus.… Yes … yes, I did. Uh- huh…” Suddenly his eyes lit up. “You did? And the record shows it? No doubt about it? Wow!” He positively beamed at Deirdre. “Okay, thanks! Thanks a lot!”
“Good news,” Deirdre guessed.
“The report from Scripps, in California, just came in. Baby’s mother was culled from the Pacific Ocean by a research team when she was practically a newborn. Younger than Baby is now.”
“And?” Deirdre prodded.
“They pulled her out of the ocean because sharks were attacking her pod. One of the other young females had already been killed.”
“Her sister,” Deirdre said.
“Just like she told you!” Corvus was almost bouncing up and down on the chair in his enthusiasm. “Just like she told you! That’s the confirmation that we need! You made real contact with Baby and the rest of the dolphins!”
Corvus jumped to his feet. “You know what this means?”
Before Deirdre could reply he went on, “This means you really did make meaningful contact, Dee! We can prove it now!”
Deirdre had never seen a grown man look so excited. People at other tables were turning toward Corvus, staring. She half expected Andy to jump up on their table and dance a jig.
In the control center, Max Yeager was eagerly leaning over Vishnevskaya’s shoulder, staring at the multiple screens on her console.
“The bastards’re slamming into her!” he growled.
“No damage,” Vishnevskaya muttered.
The display screens showed
“No damage,” Vishnevskaya repeated each time one of the beasts attacked.
Yeager felt each lurch as a punch in his gut. Anger seethed inside him. Why are they assaulting her? What in the name of hell do they expect to get out of such a stupid, pointless attack?
Vishnevskaya tapped an enameled fingernail against the central computer display screen. “It’s making a decision to get away from them,” she said.
“About time,” said Yeager. “I didn’t design her to be a punching bag.”
“Propulsion activated…” Vishnevskaya leaned back in her chair and exhaled a relieved sigh. “Ah, she made it. She got away.”
“Stupid goddamned sharks,” Yeager grumbled. “Maybe I should’ve designed some defense weapons for the ship. Electric fields. A few megavolts would show those damned fish to back off.”
Vishnevskaya smiled up at him. “Not to worry, little father. Your baby took good care of herself. The danger is past.”
Yeager nodded. “Yeah, maybe. But if the sharks keep putting themselves between our baby and the leviathans, how’s she going to fulfill her primary directive? How’s she going to study the leviathans if the sharks stay so aggressive?”
CONFERENCE ROOM
Grant Archer took careful note of how the quartet of people arranged themselves around the conference table: Corvus sat on his right, with an unhappy crooked pout on his face. Deirdre Ambrose sat beside him, looking radiantly beautiful even in a casual white pullover and dark slacks. Corvus is color blind, Archer recalled. Is she wearing black and white because of that?
Max Yeager looked tired as he pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the table, dark bags under his eyes and a two-day beard darkening his chin. His tan coveralls were wrinkled, as if he’d been sleeping in them. Archer’s
