Startide Rising (The Uplift Saga, #2) - David Brin Page 0,5
their warships to find Streaker.
Toshio blinked.
Something. A resonance echo at last? Yes, the magnetic ore detector showed a faint echo toward the south. He concentrated on the receiver, relieved at last to have something to do. Self-pity was becoming a bore.
Yes. It would have to be a pretty fair deposit. Should he tell Hikahi? Naturally, the search for the missing crewfen came first, but …
A shadow fell across him. The party was skirting the edge of a massive metal-mound. The copper-colored mass was covered with thick tendrils of some green hanging growth.
“Don’t go too close, Little Hands,” Keepiru whistled from Toshio’s left. Only Keepiru and the sled were this close to the mound. The other fins were giving it a wide berth.
“We know nothing of this flora,” Keepiru continued. “And it’ss near here that Phip-pit was lost. You should stay safe within our convoy.” Keepiru rolled lazily past Toshio, keeping up with languid fluke strokes. The neatly folded arms of his harness gleamed a coppery reflection from the metal-mound.
“Then it’s all the more important to get samples, isn’t it?” Toshio replied in irritation. “That’s what we’re here for!” Without giving Keepiru time to react, Toshio banked the sled toward the shadowy mass of the mound, entering darkness as the island blocked the afternoon sunlight. A drifting school of silver-backed fish seemed to explode away from him as he drove at an angle along the thick, fibrous weed.
Keepiru squeaked in startlement behind him, an oath in Primal Delphin, which showed the fin’s distress. Toshio smiled.
The sled hummed cooperatively as the mound loomed like a mountain on his right. Toshio banked and grabbed at the nearest flash of green. There was a satisfying snapping sensation as his sample came free in his hand. No fin could do that! He flexed his fingers appreciatively, then twisted about to stuff the clump into a collection sack.
Toshio looked up and saw that the green mass, instead of receding, was closer than ever. Keepiru’s squawling was louder.
Crybaby! Toshio thought. So I let the controls drift for a second. So what? I’ll be back in your damned convoy before you finish making up a cuss-poem.
He steepened his leftward bank and simultaneously set his bow planes to rise, then realized it was a tactical mistake. For it slowed him down just enough for a cluster of pursuing tendrils to arrive.
There must be larger sea creatures on Kithrup than the party had seen so far, for the tentacles that fell about Toshio were obviously meant to catch big prey.
“Oh, Koino-Anti! Now I’ve done it!” He pushed the throttle over to maximum and braced for the expected surge of power.
Power came … but not acceleration. The sled groaned, stretching the ropy strands. But forward movement was lost. Then the engine died. Toshio felt a slithery presence across his legs, then another. The tendrils began to tighten and pull.
Gasping, he managed to twist onto his back, and groped for the knife sheathed at his thigh. The tendrils were sinuous and knotty, clinging to whatever they touched, and when one brushed the back of Toshio’s exposed left hand, the boy cried out from searing pain.
The fins squealed to each other, and there were sounds of vigorous movement not far away. But other than a brief prayer that nobody else was caught, Toshio had no time to think of anything but the fight at hand.
The knife came free, gleaming like hope. And hope brought hope as two small strands parted under his slashing attack. Another, larger, one, took several seconds to saw through. It was replaced almost instantly by two more.
Then he saw where he was being drawn.
A deep gash split the metal-mound. Inside, a writhing mass of filaments waited. Deep within, a dozen meters farther up, something sleek and gray lay enmeshed in a forest of deceptively languid foliage.
Toshio felt open-mouthed steam fill his facemask. The reflection of his own eyes, dilated and stricken, was superimposed on the motionless figure of Ssassia. Gentle as her life had been, though not her death, the tide rocked her.
With a cry, Toshio resumed hacking. He wanted to call out to Hikahi—to let the party leader know of Ssassia’s fate—but all that came out was a roar of loathing of the Kithrupan creeper. Leaves and fronds flew through the churning water as he sliced out his hatred, to little good as the tendrils fell more numerous about him to draw him toward the gash.