Startide Rising (The Uplift Saga, #2) - David Brin Page 0,98

in anything but her microscopes and samples, ignoring even Sah’ot’s desultory sexual innuendo, answering questions in monosyllables.

Toshio knelt by the comm unit attached by cable to Sah’ot’s sled. He tapped out a query on the monitor and frowned at the result.

“Sah’ot!” he said severely. “Get over here!”

“In a ssssec …” The dolphin sounded distracted.

Toshio pursed his lips.

* NOW, you will to HERE

Ingather

* Or shortly cease ALL

Listening further! *

He heard Dennie gasp behind him, though she probably didn’t understand the Trinary burst in detail. Toshio felt justified. This was a test. He wasn’t as subtle as Gillian Baskin, but he had to get obedience or be useless as an officer.

Sah’ot stared up at him, blinking dazedly. Then the fin sighed and moved over to the side of the pool.

“Sah’ot, you haven’t taken any geological readings in four hours yet in that time you’ve dropped the probe two hundred meters! What’s got into you?”

The Stenos rolled from side to side uncertainly. Finally, he spoke softly. “I’m get-tting a sssong …”

The last word faded before Toshio could be sure of it. “You’re getting a what?”

“A ssssong …?”

Toshio lifted his hands and dropped them to his sides. He’s finally cracked. First Dennie, now Sah’ot. I’ve been left in charge of two mental cases!

He sensed Dennie approach the pool. “Listen, Sah’ot,” Toshio said. “Dr. Dart will be calling soon. What do you think he’s going to say when …”

“I’ll take care of Charlie when he calls,” Dennie said quietly.

“You?” Dennie had spent the last forty hours cursing over the drill-tree problem she had been assigned, at Takkata-Jim’s order and Charles Dart’s request. It had almost completely superseded her work with the Kiqui. Toshio couldn’t imagine her wanting to talk with the chimpanzee.

“Yes, me. What I have to tell may make him forget all about the robot, so you just lay off Sah’ot. If he says he heard singing, well, maybe he’s heard singing.”

Toshio stared at her, then shrugged. Fine. My job is to protect these two, not correct their scientific blunders. I just hope Gillian straightens things out back at the ship so I can report what’s going on here.

Dennie knelt down by the water to talk to Sah’ot. She spoke slowly and earnestly, patient with the Anglic slowness he suffered after his long seance with the robot. Dennie wanted to dive to look at the core of the metal-mound. Sah’ot agreed to accompany her if she would wait until he transcribed some more of his “music.” Dennie assented, apparently completely unafraid of going into the water with Sah’ot.

Toshio sat down and waited for the inevitable buzz of the comm line from the ship. People were changing overnight, and he hadn’t the slightest idea why!

His eyes felt scratchy. Toshio rubbed them, but that didn’t seem to help.

He blinked and tried to look at Dennie and Sah’ot. The difficulty he was having focusing only seemed to be getting worse. A haziness began to spread between himself and the pool. Suddenly he felt a sense of dread expectancy. Pulsing, it seemed to migrate from the back of his head to a place between his shoulder blades.

He brought his hands to his ears. “Dennie? Sah’ot? Do you …?” He shouted the last words, but could barely hear his own voice.

The others looked up. Dennie rose and took a step toward him, concern on her face.

Then her eyes opened in wide surprise. Toshio saw a blur of movement. Then there were Kiqui in the forest, charging them through the bushes!

Toshio tried to draw his needler, knowing it was already too late. The aboriginals were already upon them, waving their short arms and screaming in tiny, high-pitched voices. Three plowed into him and two toppled Dennie. He struggled and fell beneath them, fighting to keep their slashing claws away from his face while the grating noise erupted in his brain.

Then, in an instant, the Kiqui were gone!

Amidst the grinding roar in his head, Toshio forced himself to turn over and look up.

Dennie tossed back and forth across the ground moaning, clutching at her ears. Toshio feared she had been wounded by Kiqui claws, but when she rolled his way he saw only shallow cuts.

With both shaking hands, he drew his needler. The few Kiqui in sight weren’t heading this way, but squealing as they rushed the pool and dove in.

It’s not their doing, he realized dimly.

At least he recognized the “sound” of a thousand fingernails scraping across a blackboard.

A psi attack! We have to hide! Water might cushion the assault.