The creature has a hard object in one of its smaller limbs. Broadtail remembers Builder telling him about the swimmingbolt launchers, so he jabs at the limb with his spear, knocking it to one side just as something shoots out of it, faster than bubbles from a hot vent. The thing goes right past Broadtail and strikes Longpincer’s servant Crestback.
There is a sudden very loud noise and Crestback breaks apart into little pieces of shell and meat.
Half-deaf, Broadtail surges forward at the Squatter. It grabs his spear, shoving the head to one side and trying to push him back. Broadtail lets go of the spear and swims forward, pincers extended. It’s pointing the launcher at him. He grabs that limb with both pincers and clamps down. It’s soft, with a hard center, just like the limbs of the Builder he remembers dissecting.
The Squatter hits him with its other limbs, and he can hear it take another hard tool from its harness. It sounds sharp. He squeezes the limb he’s holding until something cracks and hot blood flows into the water. The blood tastes very different from that of the Builders.
He lets go of that limb just as the creature jabs him with the sharp tool. The point grates along his shell without piercing. Broadtail grapples with the Squatter again, clutching with legs and his left pincer, while feeling for the back of its head with the tip of his right. The thing is struggling hard now. It’s very strong. Its sharp tool pokes his shell again, making a small hole. He feels the hard covering on the thing’s head and gets the tip of his pincer under the back edge. The thing twists and struggles, trying to grab his pincer with one limb but Broadtail gets all his limbs around it.
The outer covering is much tougher than what the Builders wear, but Broadtail is well-fed and angry and finally feels his pincer tip punch through. The water around him grows warm and he feels bubbles. The thing gives a last desperate twist of its body, snapping off one of Broadtail’s smaller limbs, but he’s got his big claw into it and drives it deeper into the hot flesh until he feels it grate on hard things. There’s a spot where two hard things inside the flesh join together. He forces the tip between them and the Squatter stops moving.
Rob opened the hatch cautiously, ready to drop back into the water if he saw a Sholen. He pushed it open a few centimeters and looked through the crack. A human hand grabbed the edge and pulled it all the way open, and a moment later Alicia was tearing off Rob’s helmet and half dragging him into the elevator.
“You are a madman! I love you!” she said between kisses. “How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t, I just hoped you were. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“I am well. The Sholen did not harm me. They have moved about half the people from Hitode up to the surface, and they have been bringing down soldiers.”
“Is that Robert Freeman?” said Pierre. Rob finally managed to take his gaze away from Alicia’s face to survey the room. Pierre and Nadia were standing behind Alicia, both wearing the look of patronizing amusement that married people tend to give young couples.
“How did you get past the guard?” asked Pierre.
“We brought some allies. Ilmatarans,” said Rob. “While I was cutting the cable and hooking up the tow line, Broadtail—that’s the one Alicia and I made contact with first—he grabbed the Sholen as he was coming out of the hatch.”
“Is he all right?” asked Alicia.
“Broadtail’s fine. The Sholen’s dead and one of the ’tarans got shot.” Rob’s mouth twisted. “I bet Broadtail’s going to take the body back for dissection.”
The elevator habitat began bobbing and pitching quite a bit as the sub got under way. Rob shut the hatch to keep water from sloshing in.IRONA took the news calmly. He came to see Tizhos in the laboratory and smelled almost serene.
“The humans have cast aside all rules and are behaving like wild creatures. They have stolen the elevator capsule and cut the cable.”
Tizhos felt a surge of irrational fear. Trapped! But it was followed almost immediately by the realization, more time to work! Irona continued. “I have a new project for you, Tizhos. I want you to give it your full attention. Ignore everything else.”
“Tell me the nature of this project.” She tried not to sound annoyed.
“I want you to make a complete study of all the human files on Ilmataran language. Create a translation protocol that we can use. I expect you want to do it anyway.”
“That sounds as though you want to speak to the Ilmatarans.”
“I do indeed desire that.”
“Tell me why.”
“Shirozha reported Ilmatarans helping in the attack on the elevator. The humans have made an alliance with some of them, or conscripted them. It hardly matters which. Since they have cut the elevator cable we must fight them with only the resources we have here.”
“I know all that.”
“With a supply line to the surface we could afford to wait them out. No longer. We must end this now. To accomplish that we need allies of our own. Natives who can speak with other natives and find where the humans lurk.”
“I cannot believe you wish to make contact with the Ilmatarans! That goes against the entire purpose of this mission!”
Irona’s scent turned dominating. “When we left Shalina the Consensus ordered us to prevent future contamination of this world by the humans. That remains the purpose of this mission.”
“But you suggest causing contamination of our own!”
“I see no alternative. We must choose between limited, controlled contact—which we can end as soon as we accomplish our mission—and unlimited, uncontrolled contamination by the humans. Indoctrinating them into human ideologies, distorting the natural evolution of their society, teaching them harmful practices.”
Tizhos thought it over. Irona had a point. And more importantly—she would get the chance to study Ilmatarans! In person and close up! No matter what purpose Irona hoped to accomplish, Tizhos would see more of the Ilmatarans than any Sholen before or to come.
“I will do all I can,” she said.
They towed the elevator back to the Ilmataran settlement, taking a roundabout course and stopping several times to see if the Sholen were following. Rob had hoped it would take them a while to figure out what had happened, but according to Alicia the Sholen guard had reported the attack before going out to get killed.
Pierre questioned the wisdom of camping at the Ilmataran settlement. “Wouldn’t it be better to pick a hidden spot? Make it harder for the Sholen to find us—and keep from involving the Ilmatarans in all this?”
“The ’tarans are already involved. They chose to be. Broadtail and the others who helped with the elevator raid all volunteered. Anyway, it doesn’t make sense to disperse. We need their help to survive, even with the elevator’s life support and supplies.”
A fleet of Ilmatarans rose from Longpincer’s vent farm to greet them as the submarine towed the elevator capsule to the settlement. Broadtail had them tie ropes to the capsule’s support skids, and then humans and Ilmatarans began the complicated process of lowering it to the seafloor.
Because the hatch was on the bottom of the elevator capsule they couldn’t just drop it anywhere. Unless it was properly level water would flood in every time they went in or out.
Josef operated the sub, staying in touch with Rob via laser link. The elevator’s comm system was down, so Alicia had to hang on just outside the hatch, sticking her head inside to relay messages by shouting. Nadia worked the capsule’s buoyancy controls by hand, with only a depth gauge and Alicia’s eyeballs for guidance.