dolphins, left untouched by the gene-crafters, could outswim any of the “amicus” breed almost any time.
He was ambivalent to the expanded visual sense, bought at the cost of gray matter once dedicated to sound alone.
Sah’ot rose again to breathe, then submerged, keeping pace with the aboriginals.
His own line represented a drive to emphasize language ability, rather than tool use. It seemed to him a more natural extension of dolphin nature than all this crashing about in starships, pretending to be spacemen and engineers.
That was one reason he had refused to go along in the spaceboat, to help scout the derelict fleet back at the Shallow Cluster. Even had there been anything or anyone left to talk to—for which there’d been no evidence—he wasn’t about to poke around supported only by a gang of inept clients! For Streaker to try to deal alone with the derelict fleet was like a group of children playing with a live bomb.
His actions had won contempt from the crew, even though he had been vindicated by the disastrous loss of the captain’s gig.
Their contempt didn’t matter Sah’ot reminded himself. He was a civilian. As long as he did his job he didn’t have to explain himself.
Nor did disapproving clicks over his pursuit of Dennie Sudman bother him. Long before uplift, male dolphins had been fresh with woman researchers. It’s a long-standing tradition, he rationalized. Whatever was good enough for horny old Flipper is good enough for his brainy descendant.
One of the things he hated about Anglic patterns of thought was this need to self-justify. Men were always asking “Why?” What did it matter why? There were other ways than the human way of looking at things. Any whale would tell you.
The Kiqui chittered excitedly as they swam toward the eastern end of their own island, preparing to hoist their catch up a crevice in the leeward seawall.
Sah’ot felt a sweep of sonar, like a passing searchlight. Keepiru approached from the north, to escort him back to the Earthling encampment. Sah’ot flicked up to the surface. He tilted his head to look out on the new day. The sun rose behind a bank of haze in the east, and the wind carried a whisper of rain on the way.
A metal taint seemed to stain the air, reminding him of their deadly predicament on Kithrup. No doubt Creideiki and his “engineers” were trying to jury-rig a scheme to get out of this mess. Their plan would no doubt be frightfully bold and clever … and get them all killed.
Wasn’t it obvious that neophytes at the game of making and conquering couldn’t thwart the Galactics, who had been at it for aeons? The humans had his loyalty, of course. But he knew them for what they were—clumsy wolflings, struggling to survive in a dangerously reactionary galaxy. There was an old dolphin saying. “All humans are engineers, and all engineers are humans.” It was cute, but patently a lie.
Keepiru broke surface beside him. Sah’ot blew quietly, his breath condensing into spray. He lay watching the sunrise until Keepiru’s patience wore thin.
“It’sss daylight, Sah’ot. We shouldn’t be out here. We’ve got to report, and I want food and rest!”
Sah’ot affected the role of an absent-minded scientist, as if pulled from thoughts deeper than Keepiru might ever understand. “What? Oh, yes. Of course, Pilot. By all means. I’ve very interesting data to report. You know, I think I’ve cracked their language?”
“How nice.” Keepiru’s reply was semantically Anglic, and phonemically a squawk. He dove and headed for the cave entrance.
Sah’ot winced at the pilot’s sarcasm. But he was unrepentant.
Maybe I’ve time to finish a few suggestive limericks, to intersperse in my report to Dennie, he thought. It’s too bad she stays up on the bank of the pool. Maybe today she’ll relent.
When they got to the bottom of the former drill-tree shaft, now lit by a small phosphor bulb, Sah’ot noticed that someone had taken both sleds out of the passage and moored them in the cavern below. But at least one sled was always supposed to be in the pool in case Dennie and Toshio had to escape quickly! He hurried after Keepiru, up the narrow vertical tunnel.
There were two more sleds in the pool at the top. Someone must have arrived from the ship during the night.
Toshio and Dennie were already down by the water, talking to Keepiru. Sah’ot eyed Dennie speculatively, but decided not to start in.
This evening I’ll try to get her to join me in the water.