another obligation, and secrecy was more important than ever.
He put the artifact in his pocket, then laid his hand on Toshio’s shoulder.
“Well, you can tell us all about it back on the ship, son. In the meantime, you have some pondering to do.”
“Sir?” Toshio looked up in confusion.
“Well, it isn’t everybody who gets to name a future space-faring race. You know, the fen will be expecting you to make up a song about it.”
Toshio looked at the older man, uncertain if he was joking. But Thomas Orley had on his usual enigmatic expression.
Orley glanced up at the rain clouds. As the mechanicals moved in to claim Hikahi, he stepped back and smiled at the curtain which, temporarily, hung across the theater of the sky.
PART TWO
Currents
“
For the sky and the sea
,
And the sea and the sky
,
Lay like a load on my weary eye
,
And the dead lay at my feet
.”
—S. T. COLERIDGE
::: Dennie
« ^ »
C harles Dart pulled away from the polarization microscope and growled an oath. In a habit he had spent half his life trying to break, he absently laid his forearms over his head and tugged on his hairy ears. It was a simian contortion no one else aboard ship could easily duplicate. Had he noticed he was doing it, he would have quit instantly.
Of a crew of one hundred and fifty only eight aboard the Streaker even had arms … or external ears. One of these shared the drylab with him.
Commenting on Charles Dart’s body behaviors did not occur to Dennie Sudman. She had long ceased to notice such things as his loose, rolling gait, his shrieking chimpanzee laughter, or the fur that nearly covered his body.
“What is it?” she asked. “Are you still having trouble with those core samples?”
Charlie nodded absently, staring at the screen. “Yeah.”
His voice was low and scratchy. At his best, Charles Dart sounded like a man speaking with gravel in his throat. Sometimes, when he had something complicated to say, he unconsciously moved his hands in the sign language of his youth.
“I can’t make any sense out of these isotope concentrations,” he growled. “And there are minerals in all the wrong places … siderophiles without metals, complex crystals at a depth where there shouldn’t be such complexity … Captain Creideiki’s silly restrictions are crippling my work! I wish he’d let me do some seismic scans and deep radar.“ He swiveled about in his seat to look at Dennie earnestly, as if hoping she would concur.
Dennie’s smile was broad under high cheekbones. Her almond eyes narrowed in amusement.
“Sure, Charlie. Why not? Here we are in a crippled ship, hidden under an ocean on a deadly world, with fleets from a dozen arrogant and powerful patron-lines fighting over the right to capture us, and you want to start setting off explosions and casting gravity beams around. Wonderful idea!
“Say! I’ve got an even better one! Why don’t we just take out a large sign and wave it at the sky, something that says ‘Yoohoo, beasties! Come and eat us!’ Hmmm?”
Charlie cast a sidelong look at her, one of his rare, unhinged, lopsided grins. “Oh, they wouldn’t have to be big gravity scans. And I’d only need a few teeny, tiny explosions for seismography. The ETs wouldn’t notice those, you think?”
Dennie laughed. What Charlie wanted was to make the planet ring like a bell, so he could trace the patterns of seismic waves in the interior. Teeny tiny explosions, indeed! More likely detonations in the kiloton range! Sometimes Charlie seemed so single-minded a planetologist that it bothered Dennie. This time, however, he was obviously having some fun at his own expense.
He laughed as well, letting out brief whoops that echoed off the stark, white walls of the dry lab. He thumped the table beside him.
Grinning, Dennie filled a zip case with papers. “You know, Charlie, there are volcanoes going off all the time, a few degrees away from here. If you’re lucky, one might start right near
He put the artifact in his pocket, then laid his hand on Toshio’s shoulder.
“Well, you can tell us all about it back on the ship, son. In the meantime, you have some pondering to do.”
“Sir?” Toshio looked up in confusion.
“Well, it isn’t everybody who gets to name a future space-faring race. You know, the fen will be expecting you to make up a song about it.”
Toshio looked at the older man, uncertain if he was joking. But Thomas Orley had on his usual enigmatic expression.
Orley glanced up at the rain clouds. As the mechanicals moved in to claim Hikahi, he stepped back and smiled at the curtain which, temporarily, hung across the theater of the sky.
PART TWO
Currents
“
For the sky and the sea
,
And the sea and the sky
,
Lay like a load on my weary eye
,
And the dead lay at my feet
.”
—S. T. COLERIDGE
::: Dennie
« ^ »
C harles Dart pulled away from the polarization microscope and growled an oath. In a habit he had spent half his life trying to break, he absently laid his forearms over his head and tugged on his hairy ears. It was a simian contortion no one else aboard ship could easily duplicate. Had he noticed he was doing it, he would have quit instantly.
Of a crew of one hundred and fifty only eight aboard the Streaker even had arms … or external ears. One of these shared the drylab with him.
Commenting on Charles Dart’s body behaviors did not occur to Dennie Sudman. She had long ceased to notice such things as his loose, rolling gait, his shrieking chimpanzee laughter, or the fur that nearly covered his body.
“What is it?” she asked. “Are you still having trouble with those core samples?”
Charlie nodded absently, staring at the screen. “Yeah.”
His voice was low and scratchy. At his best, Charles Dart sounded like a man speaking with gravel in his throat. Sometimes, when he had something complicated to say, he unconsciously moved his hands in the sign language of his youth.
“I can’t make any sense out of these isotope concentrations,” he growled. “And there are minerals in all the wrong places … siderophiles without metals, complex crystals at a depth where there shouldn’t be such complexity … Captain Creideiki’s silly restrictions are crippling my work! I wish he’d let me do some seismic scans and deep radar.“ He swiveled about in his seat to look at Dennie earnestly, as if hoping she would concur.
Dennie’s smile was broad under high cheekbones. Her almond eyes narrowed in amusement.
“Sure, Charlie. Why not? Here we are in a crippled ship, hidden under an ocean on a deadly world, with fleets from a dozen arrogant and powerful patron-lines fighting over the right to capture us, and you want to start setting off explosions and casting gravity beams around. Wonderful idea!
“Say! I’ve got an even better one! Why don’t we just take out a large sign and wave it at the sky, something that says ‘Yoohoo, beasties! Come and eat us!’ Hmmm?”
Charlie cast a sidelong look at her, one of his rare, unhinged, lopsided grins. “Oh, they wouldn’t have to be big gravity scans. And I’d only need a few teeny, tiny explosions for seismography. The ETs wouldn’t notice those, you think?”
Dennie laughed. What Charlie wanted was to make the planet ring like a bell, so he could trace the patterns of seismic waves in the interior. Teeny tiny explosions, indeed! More likely detonations in the kiloton range! Sometimes Charlie seemed so single-minded a planetologist that it bothered Dennie. This time, however, he was obviously having some fun at his own expense.
He laughed as well, letting out brief whoops that echoed off the stark, white walls of the dry lab. He thumped the table beside him.
Grinning, Dennie filled a zip case with papers. “You know, Charlie, there are volcanoes going off all the time, a few degrees away from here. If you’re lucky, one might start right near
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