Tapping the mission time line display with a finger of his human hand, Dorn said, “Feeding time for Deirdre and Max. Then sleep.”
Yeager’s usual leer reappeared on his beefy face. “I wonder if the two of us would fit in one of those sleeping slots.”
Smiling sweetly back at him, Deirdre said, “You’ll never know, Max.”
He grumbled but disengaged his feet from the deck loops and drifted over to the food dispenser. “Let’s see,” he muttered as he picked up the feeding hose, “I think I’ll have lamb chops, Caesar salad, and peach pie a la mode.”
Despite herself Deirdre chuckled at Max’s inanity. “Me, too,” she said. But she shuddered inwardly when Yeager offered the feeding hose to her.
“Ladies first,” he said, with a gallant little bow.
Trying to hide her revulsion, Deirdre plugged the hose into the feeding port at the base of her neck. Max turned his face away. He’s as grossed out by this as I am, Deirdre realized, but he’s too macho to admit it. Then she saw that Andy was staring at her, the expression on his strangely mismatched face a mixture of sadness and heart-melting compassion. My goodness, Deirdre thought, Andy looks as if he’s going to break down and cry.
As it dove deeper alongside its replicant, Leviathan wondered if they had run away too soon. Maybe we should go back, it signaled to the replicant.
And let it feed on us? came the reply.
Maybe it’s starving and needs to feed, Leviathan signed.
Not on us! the replicant signaled, in fierce blue.
Leviathan thought that the replicant was right. And yet …
You return to the Kin, it signaled. We will go back and observe the alien.
Observe it? What for?
To try to communicate with it. To try to tell it that we cannot allow it to feed on us.
It must know that already, signed the replicant.
Perhaps, Leviathan replied. We will see.
With that, Leviathan turned back toward the upper level where the alien was, its flagella members beating strenuously against the down-welling current.
Her feeding finished, Deirdre floated into the sleeping compartment. Once again the five shelves built into the bulkhead reminded her of the slots into which corpses are slid in a mortuary.
Pulling the hatch to the bridge firmly shut she quickly stripped off her maillot and pulled another from the slim storage locker beneath her bunk. Got to get this on before Max bursts in here, she told herself. If he sees me undressed he’d probably pop a blood vessel. She almost giggled at the thought of it. Max was all bluster, she thought. He’d be embarrassed if he saw me nude. She remembered Max’s reaction when she had awakened in the station’s infirmary after being frozen aboard the torch ship. Just the fleeting sight of her bare breasts had turned his face scarlet.
No sense embarrassing him again, Deirdre told herself. Then she added, No sense taking the risk that he’d be more aroused than embarrassed, either.
She slid into her coffinlike bunk just as Yeager tapped on the hatch and pulled it back.
“Are you decent?” he asked gruffly. “I hope not!”
“I’m already in bed, Max,” she said, staring at the metal overhead a few centimeters above her nose.
“Want some company?”
“No, thank you.”
“Um … I’m gonna peel off this swimsuit and get a fresh one,” Yeager said. “No peeking.”
Deirdre smiled to herself and echoed, “No peeking.”
After a few moments she heard Yeager slither into his narrow bunk and mutter, “Cripes, there’s not even room to turn around in here.”
Deirdre said nothing. The pain in her chest was still there, throbbing dully, and she felt unusually tired. Weary. As if the weight of the world were pressing in on her.
Of course, she said to herself. It’s the pressure. The pressure’s going up as we dive lower. It’s going to get worse. A lot worse.
She closed her eyes and commanded herself to sleep. You’ve got to rest, she thought. Relax. Think of something pleasant and just drift off to sleep.
She found herself thinking of what it would be like to have Andy in this tight narrow space with her. What it would be like to feel his body pressing against her. She fell asleep smiling.
GRANT ARCHER’S OFFICE
Archer had never seen the Red Devil look so shaken. Devlin was staring at Katherine Westfall as she lay across the recliner, blubbering uncontrollably. A bloodred scratch streaked Devlin’s left cheek, his hands were still raised to defend himself.
“You’ve killed me,” Westfall was sobbing. “You’ve murdered me.”
“It would be a primitive kind of justice,” Archer said. “An eye for an eye, as it says in the Old Testament. You tried to murder the crew of
She looked up at Archer in a cold fury, her eyes blazing, her tears turned off just as abruptly as they had started.
“You can’t prove that,” she said, her voice murderously low. “It’s my word against his.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Archer. “This is never going to a court of law.”
Westfall suddenly clutched at her midsection. “The gobblers! They’re tearing me apart!”
Archer turned to Devlin. “Tell her the truth, Red.”
Devlin was clearly nervous; when he looked down at Westfall he seemed positively frightened.
“W-well,” he stammered, “the, uh … the truth is—”
The phone chimed. Archer glanced at the screen and saw Michael Johansen’s name on the data bar.
“Hold it,” he snapped. To the phone he called, “Answer.”
Johansen’s narrow, angular face was alight with a big toothy grin and eyes crinkled with joy.
“They did it!” he fairly shouted. “Grant, they’ve made contact with one of the beasts. That’s why they delayed sending up the capsule. They’ve communicated with the leviathans! They
Archer felt his knees go weak. He sank down onto one of the armchairs, suddenly breathless, overpowered.
“You … you’re sure?” he gasped.
“I’m piping the raw data to you,” Johansen said, beaming. Archer had never seen the big Norwegian so riotously happy, his normal stiff self-control thrown to the winds. Behind Johansen other scientists were pounding each other’s backs, hugging and kissing and almost dancing with excitement.
“It’s true, then,” Archer breathed. “The leviathans are intelligent.”
“Intelligent enough to communicate with us!” Johansen exulted.
“And the crew? They’re all right?”
“They’re fine! They simply delayed sending the capsule because they were getting such terrific data.”
Archer nodded weakly. “Thanks, Michael. I’ll look at the data and then call you back.”
The phone screen went blank, but the data download light beneath it flickered madly.
“What about me?” Westfall cried. “I’m dying!”
