“Do that,” Muzorawa said wearily. “Then show it to me. It might be the point that forces a decision.”
“A decision?”
“About her,” said Muzorawa, gesturing toward the bridge.
Still they descended. A hundred kilometers, a hundred ten, a hundred fifteen. The ship creaked and groaned, metal screeching with strain. She sounds as if she’s in agony, Grant thought. Just like the rest of us.
O’Hara came back onto the bridge after a rest period with a smile on her lips. It surprised Grant; he hadn’t seen any of them smile in days.
“You must have had a good dream,” he said as she hooked up.
“No dream,” O’Hara replied. “I didn’t sleep at all.”
Grant closed his eyes. The headache seemed to abate a little when his eyes were closed, and he saw the glowing star at the heart of the fusion generator, felt its warmth, thrilled at the harmonies of electricity coursing through the ship’s wiring.
“Look at this.” O’Hara nudged him. “I took them from the sampling system.”
She held a dozen or so tiny pebbles in the palm of her hand. No, not pebbles, Grant thought. They were so minute they looked almost like dust motes, except that they were a glassy light gray rather than sooty black.
“Your diamonds,” O’Hara said, her voice lilting with delight.
“Is that what they are?”
“They’re truly diamonds, they are. Not gemstone quality, I’m afraid, and very small. But how many women can say they’ve held a fistful of diamonds in the palm of their hand?”
“Hey, let me see,” Karlstad said, from his console.
Krebs’s sour voice broke in, “You are supposed to be on duty, Dr. O’Hara.”
“I was showing Mr. Archer the diamonds that the sampler’s scooped in,” Lane replied somewhat defensively.
“You should have spent your rest period
“Something’s moving down there,” Muzorawa said.
“What?” Krebs shot over toward him like a stumpy torpedo.
“Very long range,” said Muzorawa. “Sonar return. But definitely a moving object.”
“Distance? Speed?” Krebs demanded. “We need numbers!”
“There’s more than one!” Muzorawa’s voice was shaking now.
Grant tapped into the sensor net and saw three, no four, fuzzy things moving slowly in the same direction as the ship. Another slid into view, then two more.
“They’re seventy-eight point six kilometers, slant range,” Muzorawa called out.
“How deep are they?”
“Fourteen kilometers deeper than we are.”
“O’Hara, give me a two-degree angle of descent.”
“We can’t go deeper!” Karlstad cried out. “We’re far beyond our design limit now!”
“Silence!” Krebs roared. “Deeper!”
LEVIATHAN
Leviathan cruised slowly through the stream of food, eating constantly to regain its strength. The flagella were already in bud, to replace the members that had been lost, and that took even more energy. Leviathan ate greedily but swam steadily around the great storm, heading back for the haunts of its Kin.
Several of the skin members were budding, too, but it would be a long time before their offspring could be thickened and hardened to replace the armor Leviathan had lost when it was up along the edges of the cold abyss.
Leviathan was impatient to find its Kin, eager to replay to them the tale of its battles with the Darters and the eerie, tentacled monster up in the cold distance. Yet it knew that the Elders would display their displeasure. Many times they had warned Leviathan against moving away from the Kin. Youngsters often wanted to strike out on their own, they had pictured to Leviathan time and again, their imagery flashing deep red to show their seriousness. But youngsters usually disregarded the wisdom of their elders. Many never returned to the Kin.
Leviathan would return, it told itself, and return in triumph. It had gone to regions of the all-encompassing sea that no one of its kind had ever seen before. It had traveled up toward the cold abyss and survived. The Elders treasured knowledge, or so they imaged. Yet how could new knowledge be gained if no one moved off into the unexplored parts of the world?
Leviathan envisioned itself swimming with the Picturers, drawing the scenes of its epic journey so that they could add the depiction of its tale to the Kin’s history of images. No matter how many times its members dissociated and recombined, this adventure would remain in the minds of all who could see. It would never be forgotten.
But first Leviathan had to get back to the Kin. It followed the food stream, heading toward home. It would be good to return, even if the Elders flashed pictures of discontent over its adventure. They will be jealous, Leviathan thought. While they remained in the same old feeding grounds, I explored new regions. I will add to the store of knowledge, and that is a positive thing.
Leviathan realized that some time in the future it would become an Elder. The thought startled Leviathan. But it resolved never to cease exploring, even when it was an elder. And it would never discourage a youngster from exploring, either. Leviathan was certain of that.
Then a cluster of its sensor members felt a distant tremor in the darkness of the ocean.
Darters! they warned. Following us and coming up fast.
CONTACT
“Number-four cylinder’s failed!” Karlstad yelped.
“I see it,” said Krebs, her voice tight. “The piston has jammed. Structural integrity is not threatened.”
“It can’t take any more pressure,” Karlstad insisted.
“We are deep enough,” Krebs said. “Almost.”
Grant had tapped into Zeb’s sensor returns. He saw a herd of enormous things out there in the ocean, objects the size of mountains, of islands, so huge that size began to lose all meaning.
“Distance?” Krebs demanded.
“Fifty-two point four kilometers,” answered Muzorawa.
It made no sense to narrow the distance to them, Grant thought. They were so immense that getting closer would mean the sensors could focus only on one of them. On just a part of one of them, at that.
“Hold here,” Krebs commanded. “Conform to their course and speed.”
Grant felt the thrusters straining to match the speed of the Jovians. They were Jovians, he was certain. No doubt about that at all. Mind-boggling in size, they were gliding through the ocean, propelled by rows of flippers five times bigger than
They’re alive, Grant told himself. But could they be intelligent? They’re grazing like cows.
A light flashed on one of them, a sudden yellow glow that flared for a moment and then winked out.
“Did you see that?”
“A light of some kind.”
“Natural bioluminescence, do you think?”
“Look! They’re flickering back and forth!”
“Like signals!”
