'Hurry up, Charlie!' He fingered the grip of his holstered needler, not certain he could aim well enough to hit the vulnerable patches where the dolphins were unprotected by the metal-sided spiders.
'Come on!'
There came a series of small, wet, slapping sounds from within the cavity. Intermittent squeaks echoed from the narrow confines, and then he saw a pair of widely splayed, green-finned hands.
They were followed by the head of a rather distressed looking Kiqui. The aboriginal scuttled through the inner panel and crept through the maze of pipes until it leapt into Toshio's arms.
Toshio had to peel the frightened creature loose and put it down in order to reach for the next one. The little Kiqui were making a fearful racket, squeaking dolefully.
Finally all four were out. Toshio peered inside and saw Charles Dart trying to replace the inner panel.
'Never mind that!' Toshio hissed.
'I gotta! Takkata-Jim'll notice the change in air pressure on his panel! It's only luck he hasn't yet!'
'Come on! They're…' He heard the whine of waldo motors and crushed vegetation. 'They're here! I'm going to draw them away from you. Good luck, Charlie!'
'Wait!'
Toshio crawled a few meters into the shrubbery so they would not guess where he came from. Then, from a crouch start, he ran.
# There! There!
# Whaler!
# Iki-netman!
# Tuna follower!
# There! Kill! There! #
The Stenos squawked from very close nearby. Toshio dove behind an oli-nut tree as bolts of blue death sizzled overhead. The Kiqui screamed and scattered into the forest.
Toshio rolled to his feet and ran, trying to keep the tree between him and his pursuers.
He heard sounds to the left and right as the fen moved quickly to surround him. His drysuit slowed him down as he tried to reach the shore cliffs before the circle was closed.
96 ::: Tom Orley
He spent a while listening to the radio, but, although he recognized a few species-types in the voices, so much of the traffic was inter-computer that there was little to be learned that way.
All right, he told himself. Let's work out the proper phrasing. This had better be good.
Dennie stumbled over the words she had so carefully prepared. She tried to rephrase her arguments, but Hikahi stopped her.
'Dr. Sudman. You needn't persissst! Our next stop is the island anyway. We'll pick up Toshio if he hasn't left already. And perhaps we'll deal with Takkata-Jim, as well. We'll be on our way as soon as Creideiki finishes.'
Dennie exhaled all of her remaining tension. It was out of her hands, then. The professionals would take care of things. She might as well relax.
'How long. . ?'
Hikahi tossed her head. 'Creideiki doesn't expect to do any better this time than lassst. It shouldn't take long. Why don't you and Sah'ot go and rest in the meantime?'
Dennie nodded and turned to find some space to stretch out in the tiny hold.
Sah'ot swam alongside.
'Say, Dennie, as long as we're going to try to relax, want to trade backrubs?'
Dennie laughed. 'Sure, Sah'ot. Just don't get carried away, okay?'
Creideiki tried to reason with them one more time.
: We Are Desperate : As You Once Were : We Offer Hope To Little Unfinished Ones On This Very World : Hope To Grow Unbent :
: Our Enemies Will Harm You, As Well, In Time :
: Help Us :
The static pulsed and throbbed in response. It carried a partly psychic feeling of closedness, of pressure and molten heat. It was a claustrophilic song, in praise of rough hard stone and flowing metal.
+ CEASE -
— PEACE +
+ RELEASE!! -
— ISOLATION +
Silence fell suddenly with a squeal of tortured machinery. The old robot which had so long hung two kilometers down the narrow drill-tree shaft had been destroyed.
Creideiki clicked a familiar phrase in Trinary.
* It is, that is — *
He was tempted to enter the Dream again. But there was, on this level of reality, no time for such things.
This level of reality was where duty lay, for the moment. Later, perhaps. Later he would visit Nukapai again. Perhaps she would show him the untellable things that she heard through the vague avenues of prescience.
He headed back to the airlock of the tiny spaceship. Hikahi, seeing him approach, started warming up the engines.
98 ::: Tom Orley
'… a small group of dolphins spotted a few hundred paktaars north of this location! They were moving north quite rapidly. They may have come this way to see what all the fighting was about. Hurry! Now is the time to strike!'
Tom clicked off the receiver. His head hurt from the concentration it took to speak Galactic Ten rapidly. Not that he expected the Brothers of the Night to believe his was the voice of one of their missing scouts. That didn't matter to his plan. All he wanted to do was stir up their interest before the final jab.
He switched frequency and pursed his lips in preparation to speaking Galactic Twelve.
Actually, this was fun! It distracted him from his exhaustion and hunger and satisfied his aesthetic sense, even if it did mean everyone and his client would be down here shortly, all looking for him.
' . . Paha warriors! Paha-ab-Kleppko -ab-puber ab-Soro ab-Hul! Inform the Soro fleet-mistress we have news!'
Tom chuckled as he thought of a pun that could only be phrased in Galactic Twelve and which, nevertheless, he was sure the Soro would never get.
Something was making the fleets shift all of a sudden. Small squadrons raveled off the battered fleets and joined tiny groups from Kithrup's moons, all heading toward the planet. As they merged, the groups swirled about and tiny explosions took the place of individual lights.
What in the world was going on? Whatever it was, Gillian felt a glimmer of opportunity.
'Dr. Bassskin! Gillian!' Tsh't's voice came over the commspeaker. 'We're getting radio traffic from the planet's surface again. It'sss from a single transmitter, but it keeps putting out stuff in different Galactic languages! Yet I ssswear they all sound like one voice!'
She leaned forward and touched a switch. 'I'm on my way up, Tsh't. Please call half of the off-duty shift to stations. We'll let the others rest a while longer.' She switched off the unit.
Oh, Tom, she thought as she hurried out the door. Why this? Couldn't you have come up with anything more elegant? Anything less desperate?
Of course he couldn't, she chided herself as she ran down the hallway. Come on, Jill. The least you can do is not be a nag.
In moments she was on the bridge, listening for herself.
