“Reasons for incomplete data retrieval access are not your concern. Suffice it to say that the immurement of Dooden Mesa was gratifying to our Polkjhy Ship Commanders … yet I/we nursed brooding reservations within this stack of restless rings. The timing seemed too convenient.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the signal came just as we were about to launch our remaining corvette to succor another, which had made a forced landing beyond the mountains. That mission was postponed on learning where the chief g’Kek hideout lay. The corvette was outfitted with toporgic, to attack our sworn feud enemies, lest any escape that nest of wheeled vipers.”
Lark caught Rann glancing at Ling, meaningfully. Beyond the mountains. The Daniks had sent Kunn’s scout vessel out that way, just before the Battle of the Glade. And now the Jophur reported losing a corvette in the same direction?
Not lost. A forced landing. Still, they have strange priorities. Vengeance before rescue.
“After dealing with Dooden Mesa, there were other delays. Then, just as we were resuming preparations to send aid to our grounded cousins, this new distraction came about. I refer to your activity below the lake. You cleverly found some rude way to vibrate the toporgic seal around the Rothen ship. We ignored this at first, since mere sooners could never actually penetrate the cocoon—”
Another tremor crossed the creature’s rings, though this time the voice did not pause.
“Soon, however, there came a distraction we could not ignore. The appearance of three humans at the surface of the lake, deep within our perimeter! This event triggered alarms, concentrating our attention for a lengthy period.
“I/we are now quite certain that was your intent all along.”
Lark stared in astonishment.
Just after they were captured, he and Ling had speculated in whispers about Rann’s betrayal, swimming to the surface and using the portable computer to blatantly attract Jophur attention. Ling had illuminated a likely motive.
“Rann is more loyal to our masters than I ever imagined. He knows the Six Races possess evidence that can blow the lid off the grand Rothen deception. Helping our crew mates escape the trapped ship would just make matters worse, by exposing more Daniks to your arguments, Lark. Your evidence of genocide and other wrongs. Like me, they might be converted away from our lords.
“Before allowing that to happen, Rann would rather let the Jophur wipe out everybody, and leave our crew sealed forever. At least that way the Rothen home clan might be safe.”
Ling’s explanation had rocked Lark. But this one from Ewasx was weirder still.
“You’re saying we … uh, vibrated the golden shell around the submerged ship … in order to attract your attention? And when that didn’t work, we swam up to the surface to make even more noise, trying to draw your gaze our way?”
As he said the words, Lark realized in surprise that the scenario made more sense than what had actually happened! In comparison, it did seem improbable that primitive sooners would find a way to pierce the toporgic trap … or that a Danik would betray his crew mates in order to keep them buried forever. There was just one logical problem.
“But …” he went on. “But why would we be desperate enough to do such a thing? What aim could make such a sacrifice worthwhile?”
The Jophur emitted an aggravated sigh.
“You know perfectly well what aim. However, in order to establish a clear basis for interrogation, I will explain.
“I/we know your secret,” it told Lark.
“You must certainly be in communication with the Earthling ship.”
Alvin
THE DOLPHINS HAVENT GIVEN A NAME TO THIS mountain of abandoned starships. This heap of discards from a lost civilization, moldering at the bottom of the Midden.
Huck wants to call it Atlantis. But for once I find her suggestion lacking imagination.
I prefer that mythical place described so hauntingly by the great Clarke. The Seven Suns. Where my namesake found ancient relics long forgotten by titans who had moved on, leaving their obsolete servants behind.
Remnants of a mighty past, now lost between the city and the stars.
We don’t spend much time together anymore. We four from Wuphon Port. We four comrades and adventurers. We’ve gone off in different directions, led by our own obsessions.
Ur-ronn spends her time where you’d expect — in the engine room, eagerly learning about the hardware of a starship and getting thick as thieves with Hannes Suessi. I get an impression these dolphins aren’t as good at delicate hand-eye work as an urs, so Suessi seems glad to have her around.
It’s also the driest place aboard this waterlogged cruiser. Still, I figure Ur-ronn would spend time down there even if it meant sloshing through knee-deep slush. It’s where a smith belongs.
Suessi hoped we might offer clues toward ridding Streaker’s hull of a thick carbon coating. Oral traditions speak of star soot, weighing down each sneakship that reached Jijo after passing close by Izmunuti. But I never heard of a clan trying to remove it. Why would our ancestors bother, since they scuttled their arks soon after arriving?
Anyway, why not just refurbish one of the old hulks lying under the Midden, and use it to make an escape?
Ur-ronn says Suessi and Dr. Baskin considered the idea. But the ships are junk, after all. If the wrecks could fly well, wouldn’t the Buyur have taken them along?
For helping the engineers, Ur-ronn hopes to get some cooperation in return … fulfilling the assignment we were given when our little homemade Wuphon’s Dream first dropped to the sea by Terminus Rock. Uriel had asked us to find a hidden cache — equipment to help the High Sages deal with intruding starships.
Now that we know more about those invaders — a Rothen cruiser, followed later by a Jophur battleship — it seems unlikely that cache would help against forces so godlike and lofty. Anyway, Uriel and our parents must have given us up for dead, ever since the air hose tore away from Wuphon’s Dream.
Still, Ur-ronn’s right. An oath is an oath.
I can see why Dr. Gillian Baskin prefers we don’t contact our folks. But I must persuade her to try.
Pincer-Tip spends most of his time with the Kiqui — those six-limbed amphibians we once thought to be masters of this ship. Instead, they are something even more revered in the Five Galaxies — honest-to-goodness presapient beings. Pincer seems to have an affinity for them, since his red qheuen race is also adapted to live where waves meet a rocky coast. But that may just begin to cover Pincer’s attraction to them.
He talks of building a new bathy to explore the Midden. Not just this mound of dead starcraft, but some of the vast jumbled cities, filled with wonders discarded by the departing Buyur.
Clearly he enjoyed his brief stint as captain of Wuphon’s Dream. Only this time he hopes for a new crew. Agile, obedient, water-loving Kiqui may be ideal, compared to a too-tall hoon, a prolix g’Kek, and a hydrophobic urs.
Maybe Pincer still hopes to find real monsters.
Huck refuses to believe anything important can take place without her. As soon as we returned with Lieutenant Tsh’t, she got involved in the serious business of questioning the Jophur prisoners, taken from the wrecked scoutship.
According to spy and adventure novels, the art of interrogation has a lot to do with language trickery. Fooling the other guy into blurting out something he never intended. That’s just the kind of stuff Huck thinks she’s oh so clever at. So what if Jophur are different from traeki. She expected to break their obstinate silence and get them talking.
So imagine her shock when she rolled into their chamber and the very sight of her sent them into a fit, throwing themselves against the restraining field trying to get at her! The room filled with a stench of pure hatred.
