Instead of popping out on a long, cleverly plotted minimumfuel rendezvous orbit, they’d drained the drop tanks for a high-speed pass dangerously close to Ilmatar’s sun, and now were using half the ship’s internal fuel for this punishing deceleration.
She watched the display projected in the center of the cabin. At the moment the ship was passing low over the cloud tops of the giant planet the humans had named Ukko. It would swing out again, matching orbits with the moon Ilmatar, and do a final burn to start circling the moon. All these extravagant maneuvers would leave the ship with just enough fuel to get back to Shalina on a four-month low-energy trajectory through Otherspace.
The motors shut down, and Tizhos unstrapped herself. She rather liked zero gravity. She called up a window, and watched the red and yellow swirls of Ukko’s atmosphere beneath the dark sky. Ilmatar was already visible as a little white crescent, rising steadily above the giant planet’s cloud tops.
According to the display, Tizhos had about two hours before she needed to strap in again. The perfect time to work on her little personal project.
She had joined the Space Working Group in order to learn about alien life. But until now, she had never left Shalina. The Ilmatar voyage was a wonderful opportunity to study two different alien species: humans and the natives of Ilmatar. The visit would be short, so Tizhos wanted to be able to gather as much information as she could in the time available. After a little thought, she had come up with a clever plan.
The humans spent a lot of time studying the Ilmatarans, so if Tizhos could spend time with one of the human researchers and examine the raw data, she could effectively study both species at once. It seemed like a very efficient way to do things. So she spent her free time practicing English and Spanish, two of the most common human languages.
She was fluent enough to read some of their scientific documents. They had an oddly conflict-based method of disseminating information. Researchers wrote up their findings in stand-alone documents, and others tried to disprove the statements in the document. Somehow, out of conflict came consensus.
Sometimes the ongoing consensus changed dramatically, and Tizhos thought it was significant that the humans used the same term, “revolution,” to describe both a shift in scientific theory and a violent social upheaval. Everything the humans did seemed to be the result of competition or rigid logic. How unlike the compassionate, nurturing consensus of the Sholen, she thought.Tizhos never spoke of it to anyone, but at times she thought it might be pleasant to be able to disagree with others.
Strongpincer and the others crouch hidden beneath an overhanging rock, listening carefully. The rock sits in a barren part of the seafloor, but it is in a good place to wait for travelers. Traders and messengers going from the Deepest Rift communities to the Three Domes hotspot pass nearby, but here it is hundreds of cables to safety in either direction. Robbers can pounce on the unwary and there is no one to help.
The gang has eight members now, all fierce fighters. Strongpincer remembers chasing away a gang of twelve, with only three others to help him. That the larger gang consisted mostly of half-grown children is something Strongpincer tries to forget.
He listens again, hoping to hear prey, and feels a surge of joy. It sounds like a whole train—three or four towfins and probably half a dozen adults. As they come closer he hears the adults clicking away to one another, not caring if the whole ocean knows where they are. This train is too big for a band of children or half-starved outcasts to attack; evidently they don’t know this is Strongpincer’s territory.
To his left, Shellcrusher starts to move, but Strongpincer halts her and says very quietly, “The last one. Pass it on.” The others are silently getting into position for a fast climb and some quick, brutal fighting.
Overhead, the first towfin passes. From the churning of its fins, it sounds like it’s hauling something big. Two of the chatty adults are trailing behind the towfin. The next one sounds smaller and lightly loaded—Strongpincer suspects a young towfin ready to be sold. Then another, with what sounds like three or four adults hanging on its line.
Strongpincer tenses. The last one is passing now. It sounds like an old towfin with ragged fins, laboring a bit to keep up with the others. Silently, Strongpincer rises from the seafloor and then begins swimming up toward the towfin using powerful strokes of his tail. When he’s half a cable away he starts pinging, to get a better idea of what he’s up against. There is one adult riding on the towfin’s back, and two nets of jars trailing behind it. The adult hears Strongpincer’s pings and calls those ahead for help.
Headcracker and Tailcutter are going for the cargo bundles; even if the merchants get away, Strongpincer and his gang get the loot. Shellcrusher and Weaklegs are in formation with Strongpincer, gaining on the towfin and the panicky adult. Halftail is lagging behind, of course.
Ahead he can hear the other towfins coming about, but they are clumsy and can’t turn fast. Where are Onefeeler and Hardshell?
He hears them ping up ahead and imagines them walking on the bottom before rising up to attack. Clever—surely Onefeeler’s idea. Sometimes Strongpincer wonders if maybe Onefeeler isn’t too clever.
The panicking adult abandons his towfin. Fool. Strongpincer gives a couple of powerful strokes with his tail and catches the wretch. A town-bred adult, that’s for sure, with his shell all covered with weed and parasites. Big, though. He probably doesn’t remember going hungry. Strongpincer grabs him from behind and tries to get a grip on his pincers, but the coward tries to curl up, folding his legs and pincers against his belly. Strongpincer doesn’t have the time to waste prying this one open, so he works a pincer point between a couple of the fellow’s back segments and forces it in until he can feel the soft membranes give way.
He looks up and pings. Onefeeler and Hardshell are fighting tail to tail against three angry adults behind the third towfin. Shellcrusher and Weaklegs are going to help. Tailcutter’s down on the bottom trying to cut open the cargo nets from the fourth towfin. Greedy fool; he could be helping get more stuff. The young towfin is bolting, dragging its rider helplessly on the towrope, and the two adults on the first ’fin decide to run for it as well, prodding their beast until it breaks into a ponderous sprint.
When they notice Shellcrusher and Weaklegs, the other three adults scatter, trying to catch up with their fleeing buddies. Shellcrusher overtakes one of them and gets her massive pincers around the poor fool’s body right where the tail joins. There’s a burst of panicked clicking and then a crack, and Shellcrusher lets the leaking body tumble down to the seafloor.
The haul is good. The two cargo nets from the last ’fin hold jars of iceshaver roe and skin bags full of smokeweed pith. The other beast has only a small net full of personal baggage and some food for the merchants. Still, the beasts themselves are certainly valuable.
Only one of the gang is hurt—Hardshell lost a feeler, but they grow back, and it won’t affect his fighting ability. Strongpincer imagines recruiting some more fighters, maybe even buying some fierce children from a school. For a big gang, there are so many possibilities. Strongpincer dives down to get some roe before Tailcutter eats the whole jar by himself.
Tizhos joined Gishora at the lander hatch as soon as the ship had established orbit about Ilmatar. Gishora was leader on this voyage, which meant that he had to do a lot of nuzzling and stroking Tizhos as part of the normal bonding. Neither of them particularly enjoyed it. Gishora was naturally somewhat shy and solitary, almost as reserved as the humans. He was in charge of this voyage only because of his unmatched knowledge of human social rules and languages.