slivers of metal lodged under the skin they had to be removed soon, before blood poisoning set in. And it wasn’t going to be easy getting Hikahi out to sea.
“Hikahi, there’ll be another wave soon. It may reach this high. We’ve got to be ready for it!”
“Stay, Toshio. The wave will not reach here. Besides, look around. See how much more important this isss!”
For the first time, Toshio noticed the clearing. The pool was set near one side, with scratch marks all around, indicating that it had been recently dug. Then he saw that the manipulator arms from Hikahi’s harness were missing.
Then who …? Toshio’s perception shifted. He saw twisted debris at the far end of the clearing, scattered through the undergrowth, and recognized the fragments of a ruined, shattered village.
In the chronic shimmering of a Kithrupan forest he saw the fragments of rude, torn, crudely-woven nets, scattered pieces of wrecked thatching, and bits of sharp metal crudely bound to wooden staves.
In the tree branches he saw fleet movements. Then, one by one, small, splayed, web-fingered hands appeared—followed by slowly peeking, shining black eyes that peered back at him from under low, greenish brows.
“Abos!” he whispered. “I saw one earlier, then forgot. They look pre-sentient!”
“Yesss,” Hikahi sighed. “And this makes secrecy more vital than ever. Quickly, Sharp-Eyes! Tell me what has happened!”
Toshio related only what he had done since the first wave struck, leaving out only his battle with Keepiru. It was hard to concentrate, with eyes in the trees staring down at him, then skittishly darting under cover whenever he glanced their way. He barely finished his story as the last wave arrived.
Breakers could be seen driving up the sloping shore with a white foaming. But Hikahi was right. The water wouldn’t rise this high.
“Toshio!” Hikahi whistled. “You’ve done very well. You may have saved these little people, as well as ourselves. Brookida will succeed. He will bring help.
“So saving me is not that important. You must do as I say! Have Keepiru dive at once! He must stay out of sight and remain quiet as possible as he searches for bodies and debris. You must bury Ssattatta and K’Hith and gather the fragments of their harnesses. When help comes we must be able to move quickly!”
“Are you sure you’ll be all right? Your wounds …”
“I’ll be fine! My friends keep me wet-t. The trees overhang to keep me hidden. Watch the skies, Sharp-Eyes! Don’t be seen! When you’re finished I hope to have coaxed our little hosts into trusting you.”
She sounded tired. Toshio was torn. Finally, he sighed and turned back to the forest. He forced himself to run through the broken foliage, following the receding waters to the shore.
Keepiru was just emerging as he arrived. The fin had removed his breather and wore an airdome instead. He reported finding the body of Phip-pit, the dolphin supposed lost earlier to the killer weed. The sucker-bruised body must have been torn loose during the tsunami.
“Any sign of Hist-t?” Toshio called.
Keepiru answered negative. Toshio passed on Hikahi’s command and watched as the sled sank below again.
For a moment he stood there looking out over the west. Kithrup’s reddish sun was setting. A few stars poked rays through scattered clouds, which were beginning to look ominous. Toshio decided against taking off his drysuit, though he compromised by pulling the rubberized headpiece off. The breeze was chilling, but a huge relief.
If the battle in space continued, Toshio saw no sign of it. Kithrup’s rotation had taken the shining globe of plasma and debris out of sight.
Toshio lacked the will to shake his fist, but he grimaced toward the southern sky, hoping the Galactics had wiped each other out.
It wasn’t likely. There would be victors. And someday soon they would be down here looking for dolphins and men.
Toshio pulled his shoulders back, in spite of his fatigue, and walked with deliberateness toward the forest, and the protecting, overhanging trees.
They found the young man and the dolphin shortly after landing. The two were huddled together under a crude shelter which dripped warm rain in long rivulets. Lightning flashes drowned out the muffled yellow light from lamps the rescuers brought. In the first flash, Thomas Orley thought he saw a half-dozen small squat figures clustered around the Earthling and the Calafian. But by the time he and his partner had shoved through the undergrowth for a better view, the animals—or whatever they were—were gone.
His first fear that they had been carrion-eaters disappeared when he saw