was quite at odds with the gleaming modern interior. There were more persons here, two hands of them, and while Gourami leaned on Caetei, the rangy person passed the tool se had used to cross-wire the door into se toefingers and used its waterproofed handle to pound on the deck.
From other hatchways, persons scrambled, some of them hopping on all fours in their haste. Some were pear-shaped, their pouches full of seawater and nutrition for egglings still too small and presentient to swim free. Three hands, five—Gourami, dizzy, could not count them as Caetei dragged se toward the railing. Some of the persons dragged bound humen, lowered dinghies over the sides of the barge. They all moved with great haste, efficiently, in teams.
Se could not clamber over; se feet would not lift high enough to hook the bottom railing. But Caetei insisted, leaning in to make eye contact, and from that demand Gourami drew the strength to climb.
Still, if it had not been for Caetei’s hands curled under Gourami’s armpits, lifting, se would have ended slumped, halfway over the rail. Caetei wrapped bony fingers around Gourami’s ankles. Se crouched and heaved, lifting with the powerful muscles of thigh and haunch. Gourami slithered overboard, bruising pelvis and knees on the rail. And then se was falling, uncontrolled, tumbling, and then the warm water smacked se hard along the left side, bruising webs between reaching toefingers, stinging the outflung arm. A pop as a handfinger dislocated, pain that coiled se arm like jelly-colony sting. Se shocked alert, wet now, warm in the shallow water of the bay. Se gasped, wetting throat and sinuses, skin prickling as toxins and foreign matter adhered to drying mucous washed away. The burn-wound seared, dazzled, numbed.
Se was wet again.
Se breathed deep, oxygenating, feeling mottles flush and go violet. The itching tightness eased. Mucous flowed freely, rehydrated, and Gourami croaked in relieved pleasure as Caetei and the disguised others began to splash into the bay. —
Hurry,
Caetei thrummed into the water.
—We must be away when the barge sinks.
Se words caressed Gourami’s flanks. —
Sinks?
—Hippolytae mined it with a boring charge. It will sink; we must be clear. Can you swim?
Gourami’s damaged handfinger delivered a nauseous spike of pain when se tried to paddle, and so se tucked arms to chest and kicked experimentally. Se glided forward, water sluicing along a streamlined form. The course was unpredictable, with only one hand to steer with, but speed was not impaired.
—I can swim,
Gourami answered.
—Caetei—
—Then swim,
the other interrupted.
—Talk when we’re away from the bomb.
—But what about the humen on the barge?
Se’d seen some lowered into the rubber boats. But had they all gotten off? Would the boats withstand a nearby explosion? They drowned in water, humen. Faster, much faster, than Gourami would drown in either water or dry air. They could not skin-breathe; they had not even rudimentary gills.
Se made a small sound of protest. Caetei did not answer, though se must have felt the noise. Gourami kicked, feeling green bodies stirring the water alongside, and held peace.
For now.
Later, there would be words. Words with a human Gourami thought se could trust. Because if the humen slew their own and gave no respect to the passing, then that was ill. But if they hurt or killed persons, and persons hurt or killed humen—
—then that was war.
Red light slicked Jean Kroc’s windows before those inside felt the shock or heard the explosion. André was moving before he had time to hope it was ridiculous, cold tea scattering from the mug he kicked over, his foot just missing the remains of supper on his plate. He clotheslined Cricket as she lurched to her feet. She folded around his arm and he twisted, pressing her into his chest. He fell underneath her, rolled to cover her with his body, tucking her face against his throat. She shoved his
From other hatchways, persons scrambled, some of them hopping on all fours in their haste. Some were pear-shaped, their pouches full of seawater and nutrition for egglings still too small and presentient to swim free. Three hands, five—Gourami, dizzy, could not count them as Caetei dragged se toward the railing. Some of the persons dragged bound humen, lowered dinghies over the sides of the barge. They all moved with great haste, efficiently, in teams.
Se could not clamber over; se feet would not lift high enough to hook the bottom railing. But Caetei insisted, leaning in to make eye contact, and from that demand Gourami drew the strength to climb.
Still, if it had not been for Caetei’s hands curled under Gourami’s armpits, lifting, se would have ended slumped, halfway over the rail. Caetei wrapped bony fingers around Gourami’s ankles. Se crouched and heaved, lifting with the powerful muscles of thigh and haunch. Gourami slithered overboard, bruising pelvis and knees on the rail. And then se was falling, uncontrolled, tumbling, and then the warm water smacked se hard along the left side, bruising webs between reaching toefingers, stinging the outflung arm. A pop as a handfinger dislocated, pain that coiled se arm like jelly-colony sting. Se shocked alert, wet now, warm in the shallow water of the bay. Se gasped, wetting throat and sinuses, skin prickling as toxins and foreign matter adhered to drying mucous washed away. The burn-wound seared, dazzled, numbed.
Se was wet again.
Se breathed deep, oxygenating, feeling mottles flush and go violet. The itching tightness eased. Mucous flowed freely, rehydrated, and Gourami croaked in relieved pleasure as Caetei and the disguised others began to splash into the bay. —
Hurry,
Caetei thrummed into the water.
—We must be away when the barge sinks.
Se words caressed Gourami’s flanks. —
Sinks?
—Hippolytae mined it with a boring charge. It will sink; we must be clear. Can you swim?
Gourami’s damaged handfinger delivered a nauseous spike of pain when se tried to paddle, and so se tucked arms to chest and kicked experimentally. Se glided forward, water sluicing along a streamlined form. The course was unpredictable, with only one hand to steer with, but speed was not impaired.
—I can swim,
Gourami answered.
—Caetei—
—Then swim,
the other interrupted.
—Talk when we’re away from the bomb.
—But what about the humen on the barge?
Se’d seen some lowered into the rubber boats. But had they all gotten off? Would the boats withstand a nearby explosion? They drowned in water, humen. Faster, much faster, than Gourami would drown in either water or dry air. They could not skin-breathe; they had not even rudimentary gills.
Se made a small sound of protest. Caetei did not answer, though se must have felt the noise. Gourami kicked, feeling green bodies stirring the water alongside, and held peace.
For now.
Later, there would be words. Words with a human Gourami thought se could trust. Because if the humen slew their own and gave no respect to the passing, then that was ill. But if they hurt or killed persons, and persons hurt or killed humen—
—then that was war.
Red light slicked Jean Kroc’s windows before those inside felt the shock or heard the explosion. André was moving before he had time to hope it was ridiculous, cold tea scattering from the mug he kicked over, his foot just missing the remains of supper on his plate. He clotheslined Cricket as she lurched to her feet. She folded around his arm and he twisted, pressing her into his chest. He fell underneath her, rolled to cover her with his body, tucking her face against his throat. She shoved his
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