Infinity's Shore by David Brin

it
from above
 … cast by a new entity, shining like the blazing sun.
    It is no sun, but
another
vessel of space! A ship unbelievably larger than the slim gene raider, looming above it the way a full-stacked traeki might tower over a single, newly vlenned ring.
    Can the wax be believed? Could anything be as huge and mighty as that luminous mountain-thing, gliding over the valley as ponderous as a thunderhead?
    Trapped, the Rothen craft emits awful, grating noises, straining to escape the titanic newcomer. But the cascade of light now presses on it, pushing with force that spills across the vale, taking on qualities of physical substance. Like a solid shaft, the beam thrusts the Rothen ship downward against its will, until its belly scours Jijo’s wounded soil.
    A deluge of saffron color flows around the smaller cruiser, covering the Rothen craft in layers—thickening, like gobs of cooling sap. Soon the Rothen ship lies helplessly encased. Leaves and twigs seem caught in midwhirl, motionless beside the gold-sealed hull.
    And above, a new power hovered. Leviathan.
    The searing lights dimmed.
    Humming a song of overpowering might, the titan descended, like a guest mountain dropping in to take its place among the Rimmers. A stone from heaven, cracking bedrock and reshaping the valley with its awful weight.
    Now the wax stream changes course. The molten essence of distilled chagrin veers in a new direction.
    Its heading, my rings?
    Over a precipice.
    Into hell.
Rety

    R ETY THOUGHT ABOUT HER BIRD. THE BRIGHT bird, so lively, so unfairly maimed, so like herself in its stubborn struggle to overcome.
    All her adventures began one day when Jass and Bom returned from a hunting trip boasting about wounding a mysterious flying creature. Their trophy—a gorgeous metal feather—was the trigger she had been waiting for. Rety took it as an omen, steadying her resolve to break away. A sign that it was time, at last, to leave her ragged tribe and seek a better life.
    I guess everybody’s looking for something
, she pondered, as the robot followed another bend in the dreary river, meandering toward the last known destination of Kunn’s flying scout craft. Rety had the same goal, but also dreaded it. The Danik pilot would deal harshly with Dwer. He might also judge Rety, for her many failings.
    She vowed to suppress her temper and grovel if need be.
Just so the starfolk keep their promise and take me with them when they leave Jijo.
    They must! I gave ’em the bird. Rann said it was a clue to help the Daniks and their Rothen lords search
 …
    Her thoughts stumbled.
    Search for what?
    They must need somethin’ awful bad to break Galactic law by sneakin’ to far-off Jijo.
    Rety never swallowed all the talk about “gene raiding”—that the Rothen expedition came looking for animals almost ready to think. When you grow up close to nature, scratching for each meal alongside other creatures, you soon realize
everybody
thinks. Beasts, fish … why, some of her cousins even prayed to trees and stones!
    Rety’s answer was—
so what?
Would a gallaiter be less smelly if it could read? Or a wallow kleb any less disgusting if it recited poetry while rolling in dung? By her lights, nature was vile and dangerous. She had a bellyful and would gladly give it up to live in some bright Galactic city.
    Rety never believed Kunn’s people came across vast space just to teach some critters how to blab.
    Then what was the real reason? And what were they afraid of?
    The robot avoided deep water, as if its force fields needed rock or soil to push against. When the river widened, and converging tributaries became rivers themselves, further progress proved impossible. Even a long detour west offered no way around. The drone buzzed in frustration, hemmed by water on all sides.
    â€œRety!” Dwer’s hoarse voice called from below. “Talk to it again!”
    â€œI already did,