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 nobody 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 warship, 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 assertion, 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 analytic 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 Toshio. '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.'
Toshio nodded. The captain flipped to face Dennie.
'Before I give permission, you must have a plan. You'll get little material assistance 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 ship, 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. Toshio 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 passed out of sight. Then he addressed Dennie and Sah'ot.
* At your service, you will find me -
In my quarters, floating, breathing -
* After seeing Toshio resting… *
Toshio 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 ship's other midshipman speared past Keepiru and the boy, then zoomed around them in ever-tightening circles, chattering excitedly.
'Do you really think Toshio'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 Toshio their fellowship, 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, assigning 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 analysis 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. 'Alasss. Digging for long-toasted garbage of past Kithrupan civilizations cannot be half as important as making contact with pre- sentients and establishing 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, lass?' 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 hell.
15 ::: Stenos
Moki, Sreekah-pol, and Hakukka-jo spent their latest off-duty period as they had spent every one for weeks, complaining.
