“Well, with one of them. We don’t know if he speaks for anyone else.”
“Do you think it came here looking for us, or was it an accident?”
“That’s a good question. He—”
“Why do you assume it is male?”
“I don’t know. There’s no real difference between the sexes anyway. I guess now that we’ve been introduced I feel kind of weird calling it ‘it.’ Do you want me to start saying ‘her’ instead?”
“No, but I will tease you without mercy if it does turn out to be female.”
“I’ll risk it. So what do we do tomorrow? More trying to learn the language?”
“Yes. I want to find some of Dr. Graves’s notes and try to develop a way to do real-time translations.”
The silences between statements were getting longer as they warmed up and began to relax. “I guess you want to handle that?” Rob asked her.
“I will need you as well. I am no communication expert, and you have spent more time speaking with the Ilmataran than anyone.”
Rob was about to ask if she thought the Ilmataran could really afford to rent an apartment in Houston without credit cards, but then he realized he was dreaming and let himself fall completely asleep.
Broadtail is trying yet again to communicate with the Builder creatures. It is maddeningly difficult—much more so than teaching children. Children can at least speak. This is like teaching the dictionary to someone born deaf. He remembers reading about a case like that at the Big Spring community. Yet the Builders can hear, he is certain of that. They just don’t hear speech.
When he places an object in their hands and taps out its number, the creatures can remember perfectly. But whenever Broadtail attempts to teach them something more complex, they just cannot grasp the meaning. The misunderstandings are almost comical. He remembers using his pincers to demonstrate “upcurrent” and “downcurrent,” only to have the Builders reply with the number for “pincer.” He can’t even say “yes” or “no” to them!“What is that sound?” Holdhard asks suddenly.
Broadtail can hear it also: a sound like water rushing through a pipe, and a chorus of loud hums, and the echo of something big moving through the water. It’s about ten cables away, closing in swiftly.
It’s so big and noisy Broadtail doesn’t need to ping it to get a clear idea of its form. It is shaped like an adult, but vastly larger—nearly the size of the shelter. Like the shelter, it sounds as if it is covered in soft mud. It moves toward them at a steady speed. Holdhard fidgets but does not leave. Broadtail remains where he is, waiting to learn how the Builders react to this new threat.
The two upright creatures do not hide. They have turned to face the thing and are waving their upper limbs. Broadtail cannot tell if that is a threat or a sign of panic. The thing slows and drops toward the sea bottom.
“I think that large creature is tame,” he says to Holdhard. “Much like a towfin or a scourer. Listen: it is slowing as it approaches. A hunter would speed up. If I am wrong, take my notes to Longpincer at the Bitterwater vent.”
The hums get deeper before stopping, and the thing comes to a halt just next to the shelter. Two more of the creatures emerge from beneath the thing. One is about the same size as Builder 1, the second is larger and carries more tools. The four Builders float together, then turn and move toward Broadtail. The huge beast remains absolutely still and quiet behind them.
The beast disturbs Broadtail. How can it eat? The water around the ruins is too cold to support such a large animal. Nor is there a stockpile of food for it.
Then he wonders: is it a beast at all? Now that it is not moving it is completely inert. He can hear no motion, not even the fidgeting of a tethered beast. It resembles a shelter more than any living thing. Within its shell he can hear nothing.
But it is a shelter that can move. How? The upright creatures do not push it as they swim; it would take a vast number of adults to shove something that big.
Another mystery. These creatures spawn mysteries. (The thought leads Broadtail to a brief speculation about how the creatures do reproduce; he resolves to ask them at the earliest opportunity.)
The four of them stop just outside pincer reach and wait. Broadtail says “Greetings!” in the hope that maybe one of the new arrivals can understand him.
“You’ve been talking with them?” said Dickie. “Sort of. We can’t understand their calls or anything, but I think this one’s trying to teach us some kind of simple number code,” said Rob. “At least, he hands us stuff and then taps his pincers together. The number of taps is the same for the same item.”
“That’s great!“ said Dickie. He sounded different. For the first time since—well, since the Sholen had arrived—Dickie Graves didn’t sound angry. “Send me all your notes. I had some tentative correlations from remote observation but this is just wonderful.”
“All we really have is names for things like rocks.”
“That’s a good beginning. Let me just get at my notes—”
Graves started muttering voice commands to his computer.
“Did you make recordings?”
“Of course,” said Alicia. “I am sending them to you now.”
“Super. I’ll need to dig up my analysis software to see if I can identify specific eidophones. Once I can do that, I can start making correlations and try to tease out a grammar. This is so exciting! Oh—” he paused and sounded almost surprised at himself. “I killed a Sholen. I think it was Gishora.”
The creature Broadtail calls Builder 3 makes very rapid progress learning language. The two of them work together, stopping for Broadtail to eat and sleep. When Broadtail returns to work he is startled by the creature’s progress. It seems to be learning even when Broadtail isn’t teaching.
The biggest problem is that the creature learns words like a hungry child eating roe, but has no grasp of how to put them together. It taps out words all jumbled together, so that instead of making a statement like “Builder gives Broadtail the stone” it bangs out “Stone Builder large tail grasp into” or “Grasping stone Builder tail wide.”
Still, they definitely are making progress. Unlike the other Builders, number 3 can actually understand speech and even utters a few echoes, though horribly distorted. As quickly as he thinks the creature can understand, Broadtail starts asking it questions. Some of the answers make sense; others only mystify Broadtail even more.
He rests with Holdhard, tired out from a lot of teaching. She shares some swimmers, caught in one of the nets of the Builders. “What do you speak to them about?” she asks.
“Many things. Where do they come from? What are their tools and shelters made of? What do they eat?”
“Do they answer you?”
“Yes, but—I don’t know if we understand each other correctly. I remember asking where they come from, and hearing the reply ‘ice above.’ I don’t know if that means they are from some shallow place where the ice is only a few cables above the bottom, or something else.”
“I remember you saying Builder 3 gets the words all jumbled up. Could he mean above the ice?”
“There is nothing above the ice, Holdhard. It extends upward without end, growing colder and less dense with each cable of distance.”
“How do you know?”
Broadtail realizes that he doesn’t know. It is something he remembers reading in many books, and accepts because there is no better theory. But what if there is something above the ice? He feels his pincers stiffen as though some huge predator is swimming near. Despite his fatigue, he pushes off from the bottom.
“Where are you going?” Holdhard asks.