against the colossal gulf of air below.
“We should return to the Yoleus.”
“Do you think Yoleus will have any idea what it is?”
“Yes.”
“It does look like a behemothaur, doesn’t it?”
“Yes and no. Maybe sick.”
“Sick?”
“Injured.”
“Injured? What can—how can behemothaurs become injured?”
“It is very unusual. We should return to the Yoleus.”
“We could take a closer look,” Uagen said. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to, but he felt he ought to say it. It was interesting, after all. On the other hand, it was a little disturbing, too. As 974 Praf had said, they had lost visual contact with Yoleus. It ought to be easy enough to find it again—Yoleus had not been moving quickly and so simply going straight back up would probably still bring them up almost underneath the creature—but, well, even so.
What if Muetenive decided to make a bolt for the anticipated convection bubble now, rather than in a day or two? Good grief, he and 974 Praf could both be left stranded. Yoleus might not have noticed that they’d gone. If it had realised they were no longer aboard, and then took off after a suddenly frisky Muetenive, it would probably leave some raptor scouts behind to protect them and escort them back. But there was no guarantee that it did know he and 974 Praf were not safely within its foliage.
Uagen looked around for falficores. He didn’t even have a weapon; when he’d refused any sort of bodyguard device the university had insisted he at least take a pistol with him, but he’d never even unpacked the damn thing.
“We should return to the Yoleus.” The Interpreter spoke very quickly, which was as close as she ever got to sounding nervous or disturbed. 974 Praf had probably never been in a position where she couldn’t see the great creature that was her home, host, leader, parent and beloved. She must be afraid, if such beings felt fear.
Uagen was afraid, he could admit that. Not very afraid, but afraid enough to hope that 974 Praf would refuse to accompany him down to the huge shape below. And they would have to go down quite a long way further. He didn’t like to think how many more kilometres.
“We should return to the Yoleus,” she said again.
“You really think so?”
“Yes, we should return to the Yoleus.”
“Oh, I suppose so. All right.” He sighed. “Discretion, and all that. Best let Yoleus decide what to do.”
“We should return to the Yoleus.”
“Yes, yes.” He used the wrist controls to activate the stowed cape. It unfurled, collapsed slowly into a ball, then—even more slowly—began to expand.
“We should return to the Yoleus.”
“We are, Praf. We are. We’re going now.” He could feel himself starting to drift upwards, and a faint pull on his shoulders began to lift him towards the horizontal.
“We should return to the Yoleus.”
“Praf, please. That’s what we’re doing. Don’t keep—”
“We should return to the Yoleus.”
“We are!” He let the power to the bracelet-ankle motors tail off; the ballooning cape, still a perfect black sphere blossoming behind his head, slowly took all his weight and hoisted him upright.
“We should—”
“Praf!”
The propellers cut out and stowed themselves back in his ankle bracelets. He was floating upwards at last. 974 Praf beat her wings a little harder to keep up with him. She looked up at the still enlarging black sphere of the cape.
“Another thing,” she said.
Uagen was staring down, between his boots. Already the vast shape beneath was starting to disappear into the haze. He glanced at the Interpreter. “What?”
“The Yoleus would like to know more of the vacuum dirigibles in your Culture.”
He looked up at the black balloon above his head. The cape produced lift by compressing itself into a ball and then expanding its surface area while leaving a vacuum inside. That vacuum was lifting him by the shoulders, up into the sky.
“What? Oh, well.” He wished he hadn’t mentioned the damn things now. He also wished he’d brought a more complete technical library from the Culture. “I’m hardly an expert. I have been a tourist on them a few times, on my home Orbital.”
“You mentioned pumping vacuum. How is that done?” 974 Praf seemed to be labouring to keep up with him now, flapping her wings as hard as the thickened atmosphere would allow.
Uagen adjusted the dimensions of the cape. His rate of climb tailed off. “Ah, well, as far as I understand it, you keep the vacuum in spheres.”
“Spheres.”
“Very thin-shelled spheres. You keep the spaces between the spheres full of, ah… well; helium or hydrogen, I think, depending on your inclination. Though I don’t think you get a vast amount of extra lift compared to using hydrogen or helium alone; just a few per cent. One of those things that tend to be done because they can be rather than because they need to be.”
“One sees.”
“Then you can pump it. Them. The spheres and the gas.”
“One sees. And what is the manner of this pumping?”
“Umm…” He looked down again, but the great shadowy shape had gone.
A Very Attractive System
(Recording.)
“This is a great simulation.”
“It’s not a simulation.”
“Yeah. Of course. Still, it is though, isn’t it?”
“Push! Push!”
“I’m pushing, I’m pushing!”
“Well, push harder!”
“You don’t think this is a fucking simulation, do you?”
“Oh no, not a
“Look, I don’t know what you’re on but whatever it is it’s the wrong stuff.”
“The flames are coming up the shaft!”
“So get some water down it!”
“I can’t reach the—”
“I’m
“You are on something, aren’t you?”
“He must be glanding. Nobody can be this stupid straight.”
“I’m so glad we waited till night, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely. Look at the day side! I’ve never seen it shimmer like that, have you?”
“Not that I can recall.”
“Ha! I love this. Brilliant simulation.”
“It’s
“We should get this guy out of here.”
