Startide Rising (The Uplift Saga, #2) - David Brin Page 0,161
C are going to have to decide on that basis.
“Remember when old Jake Demwa took us along with him on that mission to the central Library on Tanith? Remember what he said about hunches? Tell Creideiki about it. It’s his decision, but my gut feeling is, follow Jake’s advice!”
He felt a thickening in his throat. He should cut this off. No sense in letting the Eatees zero in too closely.
“Jill.” He coughed. “Hon, I’m out of the game now. Get Herbie and the rest of the data to the Council. And those abos, too. I’ve got to believe all this has been worth it.”
He closed his eyes and gripped the mike. “When you see old Jake, hoist a glass with him for me, will you?”
He wanted to say more, but realized that he was already getting a little too unambiguous. He couldn’t afford to let the Galactics’ language computers figure out what he was talking about.
He pursed his lips. And bid adieu in a language designed for such things.
* Petals floating by,
* Drift through my woman’s hand,
* As she remembers me— *
The carrier wave hissed until he cut the circuit.
He rose and carried the radio outside. Carefully approaching the edge of an open pool, he dropped the transmitter in. If anyone had locked into a resonance with the crystals in the set, that Eatee would have to dive for it.
He stood there, by the pool, and watched low clouds roll past, dark and heavy with unspent rain.
They’d be arriving any moment. His weapons were at his belt, and his breathing tube, and a full canteen. He was ready for them.
He was standing that way, watching and waiting, when the steaming volcano on the horizon began to growl, then cough, then angrily spout bright fireworks into the sky.
The bridge was a blur Gillian’s eyes swam, but when she blinked the tears would not bead and drop away. Her eyes clung to them, like precious things.
“Shall we answer?” Tsh’t spoke softly from next to her.
Gillian shook her head. No, she tried to say. But she could only mouth the word. Telempathically, she sensed the sympathy of those around her.
How can I mourn, she wondered, when I can still feel him faintly? He is still alive out there, somewhere.
How can I mourn?
She felt a swirl of movement as a fin approached cautiously and tried to report to Tsh’t without disturbing her.
Gillian pressed her burning eyelids together. The tears flowed at last, in narrow trails down her cheeks. She couldn’t reach under her mask to brush them away, so she let them lie. When she opened her eyes, her vision had cleared.
“I heard that, Wattaceti. Which way is Takkata-Jim headed?”
“Toward the Galactic flotillas, Commander. Though the fleets seem to be in chaosss! They are boiling every which way, after the confusion caused by that psi-burst. A major free-for-all is shaping up above … above Mr. Orley’s position.”
Gillian nodded. “We’ll wait a little while longer. Go to condition yellow and keep me informed.”
Off-duty personnel were called to their posts. Suessi and D’Anite reported that the engines were warm.
Last chance, Hikahi, Gillian thought. Are you coming?
“Gillian!” Lucky Kaa called. With his harness arm he pointed out one of the ports. “The cliff!”
Gillian hurried over and looked where the pilot indicated. The entire mass of rock was trembling. Cracks began to appear in the great wall that towered over Streaker.
“Lift stations!” Gillian commanded. “Tsh’t, take us out of here!”
104
Galactics
Cullcullabra bowed low before the Soro Krat.
“Have you interpreted the human’s broadcast?” She snapped.
The stocky Pil bowed again, backing away slightly. “No, Fleet-Mother, not completely. The human spoke in their two doggerel languages called ‘Anglic’ and ‘Trinary.’ We have translation programs for both, of course, but they are so chaotic and contextual—unlike any civilized language …”
The Librarian flinched as Krat hissed at him. “Have you nothing?”
“Mistress, we think the last part of his message, in the dolphin-speech, may be the important part. It might have been a command to his clients, or …”
The Librarian piped dismay and dodged back into his station as a ling-plum missed him by inches.
“Hypotheses! Tentative conjectures!” Krat stormed. “Even the Tandu boil with excitement and send expedition after futile piddling expedition to the site on the planet’s surface from which the message emanated. And we must, perforce, follow, no?”
She stared about. Her crew avoided her gaze.
“Has anyone even a hypothesis to explain that psi-assault which struck a short time ago, and seems to have disoriented every sophont in the system? Was that, also, a